


Denial, Revisited.

by mapofeighteen



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: ((but it's barely there)), Alternate Universe, Apartment AU, M/M, Mention of Death, Mention of abuse, Recreational Drug Use, Sexual Content, Slow Burn, mention of rape, mention of suicide, mentions of bipolar disorder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-20
Updated: 2015-06-30
Packaged: 2018-02-21 23:24:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 144,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2486054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mapofeighteen/pseuds/mapofeighteen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU - <i>The guy living below you has a really loud alarm clock that always wakes me up at the crack of dawn.</i></p><p>Mickey had been living with his little sister for years, so when she announced him that she was going to move in with her boyfriend, Mickey needed to find a new place to live. Some of his new neighbors were cute. Some were annoying are fuck. Some were both.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mickey Milkovich

**Author's Note:**

> Here I go with another multi chapter. I saw this prompt on a AU Master Post and couldn't stop myself from writing it.  
> As said in the tags, there's mentions of rape and death in the italic part, but it's not much so don't worry.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Mickey muffled his scream in his pillow. It was 8 AM, he needed to sleep, but his sister had decided that morning sex with her boyfriend would be a good idea. He had come home at around 4 AM after his shift at the bar. The apartment had been quiet when he had entered it, the only noises being Jeremy's soft snore. So, obviously he had to suffer their noises at one point or another.

After 10 minutes or so of more moans and grunts he wished he didn't have to hear, they finally stopped and Mickey finally went back to sleep.

***

He managed to get 3 more hours of sleep. He dreamed, which was unusual. But this wasn't a twisted scene imagined by his mind, no, it was the first time he'd felt safe.

_He was nine, walking back home from school, a crying Mandy in tow. A girl from their school had told her that her mother would never come back because she was dead, and eight year old Mandy couldn't bring herself to understand what death was. So, obviously, Mickey had to reassure her, to promise her they wouldn't be stuck with their dad forever, that one day, something would happen making their lives less shitty. Anything could be less shitty than being your dad's living punching ball or his living sex toy. Mickey always wanted to protect his little sister, over a year prior, he had decided that they would sleep together in Mandy's big bed so that no one could sneak in in the middle of the night. And by no one, understand Terry._

_The police cars around their house wasn't an unusual sight, but the hand stopping him hard on the chest was._

_"Hey kid, where do you think you're going?" the cop asked him. Cops never talked to him on purpose, they always knew that if they did, Terry would think his kids had snitched on him and that they would get beaten up afterward, so they avoided to do so. But this cop addressed him, and eyed Mandy up and down._

_"We're going home, what the hell do you think we're doing?" Mickey answered him, scowling already at his young age._

_"You can't cross this line, kid. This is a crime scene." Mickey squinted his eyes at him, then looked further, seeing the blood plastered on the sidewalk in front of his house. He saw holes on his front door. All the cops. The black thing they put dead people in. Mickey never remembered the name of this shit._

_"Hey, Markovich, what are you --" an officer, older, approached them and immediately stopped himself at the sight of the Milkovich kids holding hands in front of them. "Shit, Tony, they're Terry's kids, put them away," he ushered, grabbing both of the kids to lead them away from the house._

_"Hey, what's happening in here?!" Mickey asked him, slightly panicking. If Terry had killed someone, and was really going back to jail again, they'd be put back in the system. Again. And Mickey didn't want that._

_The officer didn't answer him, so he turned toward this Markovich guy. "You, tell me what the hell happened? Where's my dad?!"_

_"Hey, hey, Mickey," Sanchez, as it was written on his badge, said. "Calm down. Your dad is gone now, you don't have to worry about him." He didn't know if this cop was really saying what he thought he was saying. Gone? As in put away in jail already? Skipped town? Or gone, as in, he was the one in the black bag?_

_"That's him in the bag there?" He asked, putting his hands on Mandy's ears. Both cops nodded, waiting for his reaction, whatever it could be. But Mickey surprised them by not throwing a fit. "Where are we gonna go then? Please don't put us in the system again!"_

_"The social worker already knows, Mickey, but I think she wants to put you in your near family. You understand what I mean? Rhoda lives not far from here, right?" Mickey nodded. "So that's the one she was talking about. You may be with her for a while, but I can't promise you anything." Mickey nodded again. "Okay. Markovich, stay with them. I think they'll need it."_

_A couple of hours after, their aunt had showed up with her youngest kids. Alan and Dave were only 5 and 3, and Mickey knew she had other kids, older. Despite his young age, he knew that the 'Sorry I can't take care of them' was about to happen._

_"Mandy, baby," she said as she reached them. She grabbed the little girl in her arms and let her boys with Mickey. "I'm gonna take good care of you, huh, baby?" Mandy looked younger than she actually was, most of the time. She didn't talk much, just when it was necessary. Plus, she was still small and thin, you could mistake her for a 6 year old easily. Rhoda pinched the bridge Mandy's little nose then swept her tears away from her cheeks with her thumbs. She knelt in front of Mickey. His face was hard, ready to take in whatever she had to say. "I'm gonna bring you home with me tonight, okay, Mickey? I'm gonna do everything I can to keep you with me. You two deserve way better, huh, hon'?"_

_It was quiet for a couple of minutes, before Mickey finally managed to talk. "Why are you doing this?" Rhoda wasn't taken aback by the question itself, but by how a 9 year old would actually ask that._

_"I was too much of a coward when it came to your father. I'm sure he did awful things to you or to this princess. I don't want that to ever happen again to you." Mickey nodded once again, relieved to know that for once, someone believed in them. That someone thought they were more than Terry's kids. That if Mandy wasn't talking, it was for a reason. That if Mickey always had a new bruise, it wasn't because he was picking up a fight. She believed them. She believed **in** them. She was their chance, their way out of this hell._

***

He stayed in bed for a couple of more minutes, trying to calm his breathing and hoping that the sweat had miraculously dried. Rhoda had been good, yes. Rhoda had done everything she'd managed to, but she was still a Milkovich. A Milkovich with five kids of her own. She had to kick her niece and nephew out after the youngest turned 18. She'd apologized as much as she could. They got it though. They knew that what she had done for them was already a blessing. She had kept them away from Juvie, she'd made them actually graduate -- _"You wanna live in the streets as of tonight or actually show up to some classes to get a paper saying you're actually smart enough to do shit?!"_

"Mickey! Breakfast!" Mandy yelled from their kitchen. It had been the same thing for years now, Mandy shouting his name for him to get his ass up. He reluctantly got up and put, at least, a shirt on. He strolled in their living room, Jeremy was already at the table nursing a coffee, when Mandy and Mickey joined him.

"Hey," her boyfriend told him when he sat down.

"Hey yourself," he grumbled as a response. "Please, stop fucking my sister when I'm trying to sleep. You too are loud as fuck." The guy didn't even flinch, he was used to it. But Mandy let out a small laugh. It's been the same thing for about two years. When Jeremy had started spending the nights at their place.

"You want us to make less noise?" Mandy asked, mouth full of eggs. Charming.

"Yes, I fucking want you to," Mickey replied, his own full of bacon. Jeremy only watched the interactions, waiting for Mandy to drop the bomb.

"What if I moved in with him, then?" She offered shyly.

"What?" He almost choked on his food. "You mean, moving with him as in _we're a couple taking a step forward and actually living together_?"

"Yes," Jeremy said, a wide smile on this face. This guy was crazy in love with his sister, this was amazing.

"Think about the advantages, Mick. You could bring anyone you want home, fuck them in whichever room you want and all. Plus, you won't have to hide mystery guy from us anymore," she added, quirking an eyebrow.

"There's no mystery guy, Mandy. I already told you so," he sighed, looking down at his plate to avoid her gaze.

"Your fuck buddy then," she said. "We know that there's a guy you've been fucking for a long time. Okay, you guys aren't a couple, but you're still kinda together."

"If you say so," he shrugged. "So," he brought the discussion back to its initial subject. "Where are you guys going to leave, then?"

"We were thinking about moving into his apartment, it's North, so better. But the thing is that either way, you'll have to move out too, Mick."

"Yeah, I figured that one out." There was no one way he could, or would, pay the rent for a two bedroom apartment to live on his own. "How long do I have before you lovebirds are kicking me out?"

"We're not kicking you out!" Mandy surged.

"As long as you want, bud. Take your time, find something good and then we'll do it," Jeremy told him.

***

Looking for an apartment had been a pain in the ass. And a half. He hadn't landed in Juvie or jail, yes, but he had been stupid enough to listen to his oldest cousin on a drunken night to get FUCK U-UP tattooed on his knuckles. If bar owners didn't care about it, renters didn't like them much.

He had the money to get an apartment in the same building as Jeremy, staying close to them. But the landlord never called him back, so that was a no. A couple of others told him that it wasn't possible neither.

4 weeks after her sister had dropped the news, it was getting kind of hopeless for him to find something. He had another meeting at 5:30 PM that day. It had to be good. He had had to get someone covering the beginning of his shift to go there.

The front of the building wasn't much, but it was still better than some places Mandy and him had to live in before finding their last place. A certain Mr. Kripple had made the appointment in front of building, and when Mickey arrived he instantly spotted the 50 year old man.

"Mr Kripple?" he said, and when the man turned around, he kept on. "I'm Mickey Milkovich, we talked over on the phone. Am I late?" He hurried, glancing at his phone. It always worked. The trick of _'Oh my God I made you wait I'm so sorry'_ was better with Mandy in tow, but still.

"No, no, you're perfectly on time, Mr. Milkovich," the man replied, a small smile spreading on his face. They made their way inside and took the elevator to the 7th floor. The inside of the building was much more promising than the outside had been. It was clean, and the walls were freshly painted.

The owner showed him inside the apartment. It was even better than the pictures he'd seen. Just like the hall, the walls had been repainted not so long ago, and it was mostly clean. It suited Mickey, and he didn't hide it. A bedroom, bathroom and open area for a kitchen and living room just for him? He didn't know he wanted it that much until he saw this apartment.

They talked for almost an hour. Mickey shared stories that would make a good impression toward the other man and Mr. Kripple was taking it all in.

When they went back down, Mickey glanced toward the area of the mailboxes. A redhead was standing there, taking his mail out. He was kind of cute, in Mickey's opinion. No, erase that. The guy was hot. But Mickey quickly turned around to finish his meeting before heading back home.

***

Three days later. It was Mickey's day off. And Mandy's one too.

"Stop chewing your fucking nail, Mick, you're gonna make yourself bleed," Mandy said, absentmindedly, eyes glued to the TV.

"He still hasn't called me. I was sure it worked out perfectly, though," he said almost to himself.

"Jesus, Mick. He told you he'll call you whether you'll get the flat or not, to keep you in touch. Stop acting like this, you're scaring me," she said it like she was joking, but really, she had never seen her brother in this state.

He'd been tapping his foot on the couch for about half an hour when his phone got off. He made a quick move to grab it, but his sister was quicker.

"It's him," she said. Obviously, Mickey had saved the number and already put it as '/!\ LANDLORD' on his phone. "Now, breathe. Calm down," she made moves to help him control his breathing before giving him the phone.

"Hello, Mr. Kripple?" He started, going to his bedroom for more privacy.

Not even five minutes after, Mickey came running from his bedroom, jumping on the couch, screaming, "I got it! I got it!"

Mandy screamed and jumped with him on their couch, enjoying the frivolity they hadn't been allowed to have in their childhood. They kept on like this before Mickey managed to talk properly.

"Gonna call Jeremy to celebrate?" he said, with a grin.

"Want me to?" Mandy asked.

"Oh come on, you know I couldn't find someone better for you than him," Mickey replied, honestly.

"I know," Mandy smiled, "I just like hearing you approve my relationship."

***

Despite having a key to the apartment, Jeremy still knocked when he knew Mickey was inside. Respect or some shit.

"Hey bro!" He welcomed Mickey with an one arm hug. "So happy for you!"

"Hey," another voice behind him said.

"Oh, I hope you don't mind, Mick. You remember my little brother --"

"Jay, right?" Mickey kept on for him. "Yeah, and don't you worry about it man, it's cool."

The three boys joined Mandy in the living room, coffee table covered of drinks. She welcomed her brother in law, not having seen him for a while.

***

The night was long, but in the good way. It felt good to be all together, celebrating something else. This would be a new start, for both of the Milkovich siblings.

It was barely past midnight and Mandy was drunk, all over her boyfriend. The boys tried to maintain a serious discussion despite all the drinking they had done, but Mandy's giggling interrupted them every time. Also, the way she stayed close to Jeremy, way closer than what casual was, distracted Jeremy a bit. She slurred something in his ear, before leaving for her room. Jeremy made a move to join her but Mickey stopped him.

"Hey, no, no, no! I don't wanna hear you banging anymore. You got your place, bring her back there, okay?" Mickey told him, a little bit annoyed.

"She's kinda drunk, man."

"Yeah, but you're not as wasted as she is, and your flat isn't that far. Please?"

"Fine," he sighed, adjusting himself a bit. "You're gonna know how to get home?" he turned toward his brother.

"Yeah, don't you worry about me, man," Jay answered. "Plus, I'm sure, Mickey here would let me crash on the couch if I'm too out of it, right?" Mickey only laughed in his beer bottle as a response and Jeremy took this as his cue to get his girlfriend.

They left soon after, and Mickey locked the door behind them.

"Shit, I felt like they'd never leave," he said, going back to the couch.

"Me neither," Jay replied, straddling his hips.

"They know about you," Mickey told him when Jay's lips were on his neck.

"What?" he suddenly parted.

"Not you _you_. But you, that there's someone I've been sleeping with for months."

"Oh, just that," Jay let out a sigh of relief.

"Yeah, just that," Mickey agreed, putting his lips on his. Jay didn't lose the opportunity to make out the with the dark haired boy. It got heated quickly, the alcohol in their systems making it a little bit fuzzy. Jay was rocking his hips on Mickey's lap, making the both of them hard in their pants.

"Bedroom?" Jay offered, standing up. Mickey took the brunet's clothes off in front of him, and the other man did the same to him before being pushed down on the couch.

"Couch," he murmured in his ear before going down on his knees and taking Jay's shaft in his mouth. The other man gasped in surprise, but easily relaxed and put his hands in Mickey's hair.

When it was slicked enough in Mickey's opinion, and that he had stretched himself on two fingers, he went up to straddle Jay's hips. He guided his cock to his hole, the both of them moaning in pleasure.

" _You remember my little brother_ ," Mickey mocked as he slowly started to rock his hips.

"He's so innocent sometimes," Jay agreed, planting his hands on Mickey's hips.

"Yeah - JESUS - do that again."

"What?" Jay asked innocently, before shooting his hips up from the couch, hitting Mickey's sweet spot hard, "That?"

"You're an asshole," Mickey moaned.

"Yeah, you like it," Jay answered, nibbling at Mickey's lips.

"Fuck yes I do," was Mickey's answer before he connected their lips once more.

***

They went for a few rounds before falling asleep, limbs tangled on the couch. When Mickey woke up, dirty from dry sweat and come, hours later, he couldn't erase the smile on his face. He was about to live on his own. Having no rules about who to fuck, or when. He didn't have to hide his sister that he was fucking her brother in law. Mandy was happy and about to live with the man she loved. Damn, what could he ask more?


	2. Ian Gallagher.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Bipolar disorder and mentions of suicide (no explicit description, though).
> 
> Note to Claudia: I hate you. Because of you, I had to change Jack's name to Shawn 'cause Falahee couldn't leave my mind as I wrote.

"Okay so, you're set. You'll have to return this one within a week, though," Ian said to the teenager in front of him, pointing at one of the books she was borrowing from the library.

"No problem," she replied, a smile plastered on her face as she eyed him up and down -- as much as she could, considering he was sittinb behind the front desk. "See you," she finished, leaving with her friends in tow, glancing meaningfully at him when she was a couple of feet away. Her skirt was too short, and she definitely wasn't walking normally as her ass bounced from one side to the other at every step.

"I think you got a ticket," someone murmured in his ear.

"Jesus!" Ian yelped, turning around to see his co-worker behind him. "You're gross dude, she's like 10 years younger than me. I'm not a pedo."

"And she's barking at the wrong tree, too," Shawn said, quirking an eyebrow.

"Yeah, that too." He got up. Break time. He walked toward the small room reserved for employees -- you couldn't call that a break room or a locker room, it would be giving it too much credit than it had. He grabbed his pack of Malboro from his jacket's pocket and glanced toward the door, seeing that Shawn had followed him. "You wanna come by tonight?"

"Dunno. Do you want me to?"

"I wouldn't ask if I didn't want you to, Shawn," Ian said, a little exasperated by his childishness.

"Then I'll come," he smiled at him. Ian fumbled throughout his pockets to find his _always seem to be lost_ lighter.

"Want one?" he offered, handing him the open pack once he found it.

"Nope. Trying to quit, thanks."

"Too bad," Ian finished, heading out of the room, the cigarette already trapped between his lips, ready to be lighten in the hot Chicago air.

***

The noise from the streets filled his ears, much to his delight. Living on his own and working at the library for a year now, he needed noise. Sometimes, he missed the army. He missed being told what to do, and the constant noise everywhere, the constant yelling. Other times, he missed his family, having left them all as soon as his birth date had allowed him to enlist and leave this place.

And some other times, he didn't miss it at all. He didn't miss being yelled at for fucking up everything, being thrown away for genetic reasons. Thank fucking you Monica and your illness. Four and a half years spent in the army for nothing -- because, really, being discharged for medical reasons before being able to do something meaningful was counted as nothing.

Taking another drag, he tried to remember how the hell did he end up working there. Oh yes, _'Ian, you need a steady job'_ ; _'Ian, don't forget to take your meds'_ ; _'Ian, are you okay?'_ ; _'Ian, why don't you sign up for some classes at Malcolm X and get a small degree?'_ ; _'Ian, what are you gonna do with your life?'_ ; _'Ian, IAN, IAN!'_

He shook his head, trying to get rid of the images of betrayal on his siblings' faces when he told them he was leaving. _Again_ . But this time not to boot camp or to a foreign country for some patriot feelings he thought were taking over his life, no, this time it was leaving this house to leave _them_.

He had felt guilty, yes. He still felt guilty. The only one he was still talking to was Debbie. Fiona didn't want to hear a word from him. He didn't want to address Lip. Carl hated him, and Liam was still too young to understand which side he had to take.

He threw the butt of his burned out smoke on the cement, lighting another one within a minute -- actually smoking it this time.

***

This day was taking forever to end. All these kids starting school soon and coming over to borrow books. Annoying. The only reason Ian was still working there was for the pay check. And his love for reading. No, but the pay check was way more important.

He didn't live in a fancy building or anything, but with the bills and groceries, he needed a decent pay check at the end of the month to keep up with it. Paying for his meds and his smokes was also a good reason to not fuck up his job, to not say _'fuck it'_ to everyone when he felt the need to. He knew it was boiling inside of him, he knew it was the thing controlling over his life despite being calmed down by medication. He knew that these thoughts and these wishes to screw everything up were there because he was supposed to be manic right now. He could feel it. His insides were trying to explode, but other parts of himself were trying to contain all this energy.

5:21 PM. _Only ten more minutes_ , he told himself. Ten more minutes and he was on weekend. Two days not seeing his colleagues, not seeing his boss, not seeing all these people shushing each other over the sound of a pencil scratching a sheet of paper.

Why had he invited Shawn over again? Oh, yeah, the sex was amazing. No feelings attached. Two friends enjoying the fact that the other one was into dicks too and didn't want any feelings involved in all that. Perfect match.

"Yo, Ian," Shawn snapped his fingers in front of his face. He was still in the middle of the scientific section, book in hand, trolley in front of him.

"Wh-what?" he managed to say, slowly realizing where he was.

"Go home," he said, glancing toward the clock. 5:37 PM. "I'll join you at the end of my shift, okay?"

"Yeah, okay. You bring the food?"

"Yup."

***

Looking for his mail was getting a pain in the ass. Either way the key wouldn't fit in the lock or else, it would stay stuck in it. He would have to talk about it to Mr. Kripple, _again_. The guy was nice okay, but he had to be told a _multiple number of times_ to do things before _actually_ doing them. Ian was used to it, but still, at the end of the week, having to fight with his mailbox wasn't the dreamed evening. As he was about to punch the damn thing, he heard to beep of the elevator, doors opening. He couldn't see the people, or being seen, but he clearly recognized his landlord's voice.

When the people walked toward the front door, Ian finally saw them. This guy might be there for the apartment then. Ian wished he was there for the apartment. The guy was on his profile, and Ian could clearly make out the shape of his ass. All the sinful thoughts he'd had all week came crashing back in his head. The guy was slightly shorter than him, perfect ass, talking with his hands, lips inviting. He quickly glanced back to the row of mailboxes when the said guy turned around, toward him.

Sneaking a glance out of the corner of his eye, he saw him keeping on his conversation.

***

"And pizza night!" Shawn said when Ian opened his front door few hours later.

"How original you are," he answered sarcastically.

"Oh, come on, you know you like it," the blond said jokingly, but Ian could hear the real meaning behind it.

"Yeah, I like it," he told him.

***

It wasn't weird. Spending time together, watching TV, beer in one hand, pizza on their lips. No, it wasn't the awkward _'do we have to talk before getting at it'_ thing that most fuck buddies had. No. At first, they were friends. And friends did that, spending time together, talking about their shitty life, complaining about their jobs, having inside jokes. Ian was glad he had Shawn, and he was also happy to know that the other man knew that when he invited him over, it wasn't just to fuck. Sometimes, it felt good to have someone to be with at the end of the week, someone to snuggle against on the couch -- despite the fact that they both knew it would never go further between them, emotionally speaking.

"Damn, I saw this guy earlier. You would have totally been all over him," Ian suddenly said, mouth still full of pepperoni as he threw the box in the trash can.

"Me? Or you?" Shawn snorted, regretting immediately as he felt the burn from the beer in his nostrils.

"Both?" Ian said, clearly thinking about it, "Damn that ass."

"What would've you done to him?" He asked quirking an eyebrow -- damn this guy and his eyebrows. He joined him in the kitchen to get another beer from the fridge.

"First, I would have pushed him against the nearest wall," he started, putting his hand on his friend's chest, forcing him to put his beer bottle down on the nearest surface. "Then I would've gone for a kiss," he kept on, approaching his lips, "but he seemed like the kind of guy to avoid kissing, so I would've put my lips elsewhere." He connected his mouth to Shawn's jaw, going south on his neck before coming back up to his ear. "I would've destroyed that ass," he concluded.

Shawn was slightly panting against him, body trapped between Ian's growing erection and the concrete wall. "How so?" he breathed, daring Ian. The redhead didn't have to be told twice. He quickly unbuttoned Shawn's pants, turning him around before pushing it -- boxers included -- all the way down to his ankles. He went down on his knees, licking his way down Shawn's crack. He parted his ass cheeks with both hands before making a mess of the other man.

He helped him bending a little more, having more access to his hole. Ian liked doing this so much, making the other person before him whimper and cry with need. He played around with his tongue, circling, teasing at his hole, then softly licking down at his balls.

Shawn wasn't touching himself, he knew better when Ian was like this. He knew that the redhead wouldn't allow him to, but also that it was always so worth it. He let one of his hands escape the trap against his chest to lace his fingers in the red locks. Ian moaned at the contact, making vibrations against his ass. Too good.

"Jesus, Ian," he breathed, making the redhead grin against him.

"Yeah?" was Ian's reply. He parted from Shawn's ass, catching his breath again while teasing him with a finger against his hole. With his other hand, he pushed through one of the cupboard. Finally finding what he was looking for, he sucked it slick before making his way up, leaving a trail of kisses on the blond's back as he took his shirt off. He was shivering in expectation when Ian pushed it inside of him. Shawn instantly knew it wasn't his fingers, too big, too smooth. It, then, stayed in place inside him as Ian turned him around, eyes so dark with lust.

"Who the hell keeps a butt plug in their kitchen?" he asked him, pushing his fingers though Ian's hair after the redhead softly pecked him on the lips.

"Only place Debbie won't find it," Ian grinned.

"Jesus, never mention your little sister when I'm naked in front of you with a toy up my ass," Shawn sighed.

"Promised," the redhead gave him a dirty smile before going down on his knees again to finally get a taste of the precum that had been dripping from Shawn's cock for too long.

***

They were laying in bed after their second round -- well, first one where Ian had actually fucked him with his dick -- a cigarette trapped between Ian's lips.

"Wanna spend the night here?" he said, voice rasp.

"Depends," Shawn replied, snuggling even more against Ian's chest. "Exercise on Saturday mornings?"

"Always," Ian replied.

"Okay, then no," Shawn started getting up, but Ian grabbed his arm to stop him.

"Oh come on, I'll leave as silently as possible and make it up to you after coming back from my run," Ian begged him, he could feel the sudden change in his own mind.

"Hey," Shawn said softly, taking Ian's wrist to put his hand away from his arm. The shape of his fingers had left a red mark on his skin, slightly bruising at the extremities already. "I'm sure your alarm can wake up the whole building. I'll come by tomorrow."

Ian nodded, watching him leaving the room to retrieve his clothes. He laid back down on the bed, feeling cold all of a sudden, rolling in the sheets.

When Shawn came back, only Ian's head was emerging from the sheets, making him smile. He approached him, jacket in hand.

"I promise I'll come by tomorrow. 7 PM, okay?" Ian slightly nodded and then Shawn kissed him goodbye, leaving the apartment who felt cold and empty all of a sudden.

***

When the alarm got off at 5:30 AM, Ian didn't want to get up. He forced himself to, knowing he had to keep his routine on its way. Ten minutes after, he was off for his run.

Running was harder than usual, and he sadly knew why. He was glad he was on his meds or else, this low phase would have brought him down so hard and so quickly.

He did his usual tour. Saw the few people he always saw. The streets were calm so early in the morning, but you could see two categories of people. The ones with sleepless nights, coming home from partying and the ones wishing to be part of this category, heading off to work at 6 on a Saturday morning.

He stopped at a red light for pedestrians, where a stack of journals for the day stood. He always took a look at it, reading the headlines while waiting to cross the road. Doing so, he understood why. He understood so quickly it hurt.

_August 7th._

He felt his throat tightening too hard. No, not already. Not that again.

He never ran so quick to go home, making his way to the bathroom as soon as he put a foot in his apartment.

Everything was out of his system, filling the porcelain bowl in an instant. He felt it coming again, kneeling on the floor. He hadn't realized tears had been rolling down his face until then.

He puked again, even though his stomach had already been emptied. He stayed there, shivering even more, hands shaking and tears never stopping to drop. He needed someone, he knew that for his own sake, he needed someone.

It rang, again and again.

"Please answer, please answer," he muttered wetly.

"Ian, what the fuck?" he heard the sleep in his voice.

"Can you come please?" he begged him. Shawn instantly heard something was wrong.

"Shit, stay there I'm coming."

***

Fortunately for him, the door was unlocked. Ian wouldn't have the strength to stand up right now.

"Ian?" he tried, then heard some noises from inside the bathroom. Ian was still on the floor, paler than ever and sweaty. His hands were clenching at the toilet and the tub on each side of his body. His eyes were unfocused. "What's happening?" he said lowly, kneeling in front of him.

"I don't wanna be like her," he whispered, finally looking up. "I don't wanna be like her, Shawn. She, just. What if I'm as weak as her and end up slitting them open, huh?" he said angrily, showing his wrists. Shawn grabbed them firmly.

"You're not like her, Ian. You're nothing like her, you hear me? You're stronger and you won't kill yourself like she did, okay?" Ian only nodded.

"I couldn't call Debbie. I - I couldn't do that to her..."

"It's okay, Ian. I'm here, don't worry," he kept on, pulling his weak body in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This AU was supposed to be happy and kinda teasing, but, oh well.


	3. Inanimate object.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **IMPORTANT** : I actually forgot to mention it in the notes for chapter one, and also for chapter two. But about the sex between Mickey/Jay and Ian/Shawn, the no-condom situation is totally intentional. Meaning, even though it's not a proper relationship, they're still exclusive and know what they do. I just needed you to know that 'cause it'll keep on like this and I don't want you to think they're just irresponsible or some shit.
> 
> PS: Slight mention of rape in this chapter again.

Whoever it was, Mickey was going to kill them. He'd come back from work to his new apartment at over 3:30 AM two nights in a row. And during these two nights, he'd been awaken at 5:30 by some douchebag's alarm clock. The first time, he'd thought it was his own, considering that for the first time in his life, he had to wake up by himself with an actual alarm. But when he had grabbed his phone and seen no alarm getting off and actually seen what time it was, he'd understood. The next night was clearer, one of his neighbor had a really loud alarm. And who the hell woke up at 5:30 on purpose?!

It was 11:20 that night when he went to bed. It was his day off, the first one since he'd moved in. He was exhausted from moving in and adapting to this new neighborhood. He welcomed his bed as he laid into it. He hoped that if he was in a deeper sleep when that alarm went off, maybe he wouldn't hear it.

No such luck. Because of this asshole's alarm, he was perfectly awake at not even 6 AM on his day off. Tired as fuck, but impossible for him to go back to sleep after that. If he heard well, the sound came from the apartment below his. But still, he couldn't be sure about where exactly it came from.

***

"Are you okay?" were Mandy's first words when she opened the door of her new home. He was paler than usual and the dark bags under his eyes didn't help much into thinking he was fine.

"Yeah, don't worry about me," he said, entering the apartment she shared with her boyfriend.

"Hey," Jeremy said from where he stood near the stove. "Someone's too busy to get some sleep at night," he added, quirking an eyebrow at Mickey when he saw in which state he was.

"Oh?" Mandy thought aloud, "Are you spending more time with Mystery Man then?" she asked, hopeful to have some details about the guy that made her brother a little happier for months now.

"I wish," he finally admitted, plopping on a stool. "Someone's been waking me up at 5:30 every morning since I moved in..."

"How so?" Jeremy asked, confused.

"Some asshole in the building has an alarm so loud that it wakes me up," he explained.

"How is that even possible? You're the heaviest sleeper I've ever met," Mandy retorted.

"Yeah, well. Imagined how loud it is to actually wake me then."

"Damn," she whispered.

"So, how is it going for you two lovebirds?" Mickey changed the subject, not wanting to think about comfortable mattresses and soft comforters.

"Good, good," Jeremy answered, looking at Mandy to check if she agreed -- the smile she gave him was all he needed.

"It's kinda weird to not have your ass around, though," Mandy added.

"You tell me," Mickey muttered. "The silence is killing me. I hate to say this, but I kinda miss all the noises you two used to make."

"Really?" she said with the quirk of an eyebrow.

"Jesus, Mands. Not that kind of noise, you know what I mean."

"Yeah," she agreed, patting him on the back. "It's strange to not live with you, little bro."

"I'm not your little bro, Mands."

"Height wise, you are," she shot back, tongue at the corner of her mouth -- a habit she'd taken from him.

"Fuck off." There was supposed to be venom in his voice, but no one could hear it.

***

[3:13 PM] Mickey Milkovich: _Wanna come by tonight?_

[3:41 PM] Mickey Milkovich: _Are you okay, man?_

_Please leave a message after the beep. BEEP._

[4:18 PM] Mickey Milkovich: _Radio silence for four days man, really? What happened?_

_Please leave a message after the beep. BEEP._

[4:29 PM] Mickey Milkovich: _Please don't make me ask your brother about you..._

[5:00 PM] Jay Asher: _Sorry man. 8 okay?_

[5:01 PM] Mickey Milkovich: _Sure._

***

Mickey thought he'd been good at hiding the fact he was worried about who he was texting to. But really, the two bathroom breaks he'd taken in the middle of their movie to try to call Jay hadn't been that discreet.

"Troubles?" Mandy asked seriously. She was snuggled against Jeremy's chest with her feet on her brother's lap.

"Huh? No, it's okay, don't worry," Mickey replied, focusing on the TV for the first time since they'd put the movie on.

"You sure?" she gave him a knowing look. She could read in him like an open book, and yeah, he minded.

"It's just," he sighed, defeated. "Mystery Man, as you guys like to call him. I feel like he's been avoiding me for the past few days."

"How's so?" Jeremy finally detached his eyes from the screen, putting the film on pause.

"Doesn't answer my texts or phone calls," Mickey explained, feeling stupid.

"I thought you weren't a couple," Mandy asked.

"Doesn't mean he can't get jealous," Jeremy told her.

"I'm not jealous," Mickey instantly retorted.

"Oh really?" was Jeremy's answer. Mickey took a minute to think about it. Was he really jealous? They weren't a couple, they'd made it clear since the beginning. But, Jay wasn't only a fuck buddy, he knew that. They both knew that.

"Anyway," he dismissed them. "He's coming by tonight so I think I should leave."

"Can we come?" Mandy beamed.

"Hell no!"

"Gonna christen the apartment then?" Jeremy smirked at him. _If only he knew._

"Maybe," he smirked back.

"Poor neighbors," Mandy muttered.

***

"I'm so sorry, Mick," were Jay's first words when he entered Mickey's apartment. "I'm shitty, I know. Here," he kept on, handing him a bottle of whiskey.

"What's the occasion?" Mickey asked him. They didn't do gifts.

"Welcoming gift? _I'm sorry and this is my apology_ gift? I don't know, pick the one you prefer," the guy fidgeted by the door.

"Hey, it's okay," Mickey finally told him. Yes, he'd been worried about him. Worried to the point he'd have outed him to his brother to know if something had happened to him. But seeing him all apologetic like this in front of him, he couldn't be mad at him.

"It's just, you know, starting classes again, having a fucked up schedule at work and all. It's been a mess for the past weeks. I'm sorry -"

"Hey," Mickey shushed him once more. "We're not a couple, you don't have to apology to me like this."

"I know, but -"

"Jay." The younger man sighed, Mickey was right.

"Who said we were a couple, huh? Not me."

"You're acting like it," Mickey told him.

"Fuck... Can we just, I don't know, lay somewhere and rest?"

" _Rest?_ "

"Man, I finished my shift half an hour ago and came directly here. I'm up since 6 and I got class at 8:30 tomorrow morning. Can you do that for me?" His eyes were pleading, and Mickey finally saw the bags under his eyes. He wasn't the only one exhausted.

"Fine, but we're taking this," Mickey agreed, motioning for the bottle in his hand and leading him to the bedroom.

"This is nice in here," Jay said as they walked around.

"Yeah?"

"Yes," he confirmed him, lacing his arms around Mickey's frame so that his front was pressed against his back. It was weird to walk like this, but they had done stuff weirder than that.

Mickey watched him slowly laying down in his unmade bed, listening to the long deep moan the other man let out.

"That good, huh," Mickey smiled.

"Yeah man," Jay sighed, words muffled in the pillow. Mickey joined him, preferring a sitting up position against the wall. He ran his fingers along the other man's back, making him sigh once more with contentment. After a minute or two, Jay turned on his side, grabbing the uncapped bottle from Mickey's hand. "To your apartment," he cheered, talking the first gulp.

"To my apartment," Mickey repeated before drinking straight from the bottle too. "You know, your brother thought we were gonna christen this place tonight."

"You talked about me to my brother?"

"I talked about _Mystery Man_ with them," Mickey corrected him. "I was worried about you and they said I was just jealous," he added lowly.

"Jealous of what? Of college and work? Nothing to be jealous of, man. Plus, we're not a couple, huh."

"Yeah, we're not a couple," Mickey agreed, reminding himself of that.

"And please, stop talking about me to my brother."

"Why? It's not like he knows who you are," Mickey told him, trying to soothe the agitation growing inside the other man.

"I know. But if he ever finds out, he'll get pissed."

"Why would he? I mean, he's not homophobic or anything, look at me."

"Yeah, but it's not the same thing, Mick," he responded, tense.

"If you say so," Mickey dropped the subject. It wasn't like he had come out to his sister on his own terms. They'd been sharing a room at Rhoda's. People tended to say that it wasn't good for boys and girls, even siblings, to share a room. That it wasn't sane for them. But it wasn't like they'd wanted to be separated or like Rhoda had had enough room to give them privacy like this.

So, obviously, when you had thought your sister had been out for the night, you brought your first fuck buddy home like he was just some friend coming over to study. It was easier this way. Except when the both of you were drunk and high, and that you fell asleep with limbs intertwined, covers doing a piss poor job to hide your naked bodies.

And luck never being on Mickey's side, Mandy had come home. Her first reaction had been a gasp. It's not everyday that you see your older brother passed out in bed with another boy. Another boy being the straightest asshole of their school. What the hell, Mickey?

She hadn't said a thing straight away, not wanting to scare him. She'd pushed the covers up on their bodies, pushed the used condom, remainders of beers and joints under the bed with her foot and left the room. She'd slept on the couch that night. She'd told Rhoda she'd been to tired to climb up the stairs. Then, she'd faced him. There'd been no denial as to what had happened to night before, because let's face it, how could have Mickey lied. He just told her he wasn't gay. No. That, they'd been drunk and high, only wanting to try things out. Mandy hadn't believed him -- now she knew who had gone on gay porn websites -- but she hadn't pushed him. She'd waited patiently for him to admit that yes, he was gay, that chicks did nothing to him. When she caught him for the second time about a year later, with another guy, sober from everything, he couldn't deny it. Having a guy between your legs, pounding into you as he breathed hotly in your neck while moans escaped your throat, no, there wasn't any more denial he could do in this situation.

"So, wanna christen this place or not?" Mickey said after a moment, putting his hand softly on Jay's chest. The muscles underneath were still tense, only slightly relaxing under the touch.

"I'm tired, man," he let out.

"It's okay," he kept on, "you won't have to do anything." The hand put more pressure on his chest, making Jay lay down on his back. Jay let out a loud breath, knowing Mickey was determined to do this. So he let him wander his hands under his shirt, taking it off. Mickey kissed him everywhere but his mouth, letting his lips roam around his bare chest.

"I stink, man," he said, knowing Mickey could smell his scent.

"I don't mind," he breathed in his ear. He stayed there, hovering over him, to chance a hand on his crotch. A bulge was starting to form. "That's what I wanted," he muttered. He shifted downward, freeing Jay's half hard cock from his pants and boxers. He started pumping at his dick to harden it as Jay helped him kicking up the fabric from around his legs.

Once the shaft in his hand had stiffen enough in his opinion, Mickey chanced a lick at the slit, making the man underneath him shiver. Jay kept his hands on his side, grabbing the sheets loosely. Mickey kept on lapping, gathering the small amount of precum on his tongue, before licking down the length, teasing the pressure of the thick vein underneath. He did it once more, nibbling gently at the junction between his thigh and groin. A hand chanced its way in his hair, and he finally connected his mouth to the spongy head of his dick. He only sucked the head at first, teasing the other boy with his tongue. He hummed around it.

"Jesus," Jay moaned, tightening his grip on both the sheets and Mickey's hair. Mickey took this as his cue to open his mouth wider, allowing as much as it could to fill his mouth. The member felt heavy on his tongue, but he couldn't deny the love he had for hummer -- giving or receiving. The salty taste filled his mouth entirely as he started to bob his head up and down, slowly at first.

His jaw relaxed after a minute, making it easier for him to take more of the shaft. Jay opened his legs wider, giving him more room to settle but also an easier access to his balls and asshole. The guy didn't like to bottom, but he didn't mind his ass being played with.

To take a breath and relax his throat from the constant thrusts, he detached his mouth from his dick, replacing it with his hand to keep the same pace. His mouth wandered to his sack, taking one ball at the time, loving the sounds Jay was making. He wandering even southern, flattening his tongue against his asshole.

"Fuck!" the man gasped, surprised by the gesture. Mickey liked ass play too, but for his own. He wet it again with another lick before putting more pressure against the ring muscle. Jay had relaxed, yes, but he was still tense down there, making it a little difficult for Mickey.

"Hey," he said softly, looking up at Jay, but his breath still hot around his groin. "Relax a little," he told him, pushing the tips of his wet finger against his rim. "It's good, don't worry, it's good." His first hand left his dick for good, teasing his hole with his fingers as he mouthed at his hip. He made his way up to connect their lips. Jay melted into the kiss, bringing both hands to cup at Mickey's jaw. The Milkovich man kept on kissing him, licking his lips and tongue to relax him, easing a single finger inside him.

Jay let out a deep breath at the feeling, letting Mickey make a mess of him. He kept on kissing him before making his way back downward, taking the shaft in his mouth again. The taste of precum was harder, so he sucked even more with the intent of making him climax.

His finger wasn't teasing anymore, nor his tongue was. He swirled it around the head before relaxing his jaw to deepthroat him. At the same moment, another finger joining his index to fuck Jay.

"Shit," he groaned louder, thrusting upward in Mickey's mouth, then downward to fuck himself on his fingers. "Mick," he let out in a moan. His grip in his hair was too tight, the shaft on his tongue was too heavy, the pressure around his fingers too strong. "I'm gonna - Mick, I'm gonna come..."

Mickey moaned around him, sending vibrations throughout his body. He quickened his pace, pushing him toward his orgasm.

Jay let out a muffled cry as it hit him, making Mickey smiling as much as he could around it. "Shit, shit," Jay breathed as he rode his climax.

Mickey went up to kiss him once more before laying by his side.

"Shit," Jay repeated, sedated. "I think I do need to make it up to you."

Mickey let out of small laugh, then cleared his throat before speaking, "I don't think you'll have to." At Jay's frown, he looked down at his own crotch, then at where he'd been laying between Jay's legs. Both fabrics were stained with come. "Told you you didn't have to do anything."

Jay laughed once more, "Okay, let me get you out of these at least."

After undressing him, Jay laid his head on his chest, comfortably settling under the covers. They hadn't meant to fall asleep, but Mickey's phone woke them up hours after.

"Don't answer," Jay whispered, eyes still closed. Mickey only moved to see who was calling him at over 1 AM.

"It's your brother. I gotta answer," he told him, alerted. "What's happening?" he asked him as soon as the connection was made.

***

"Shit Mandy, you feel so good baby," Jeremy breathed huskily in her ear. Her only answer was to moan louder, dragging her sharp nails on his back. "You're such a good girl," he whispered, nibbling at her earlobe. When she tensed, and it felt way too tight inside of her -- and not in the good way -- he understood. He quickly pulled out and grabbed her face, "Shit, baby, sorry," he hurried to say, but the tears were already there. He rushed over the nightstand, turning the light on and making her looking at him. "Hey babe, it's me, don't worry. It's just me. He's not here, he won't do anything to you." More sobbing, small cries leaving her too tight throat. "Mands, he's dead. I'm here. Mandy!"

"Mickey..." she cried, making him understand.

***

"It's Mandy," he said after hanging up. "I gotta go, man." He hurried to get out of bed, putting his shirt back on and looking for other pants that weren't stained with jizz on their front.

"Shit," Jay breathed, starting to get up to.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Mickey asked him as he laced his shoes.

"Going home?"

"Nah, man. Stay here, I won't be that long," he told him, pushing him lightly so that he laid back down on the bed.

"We're not a couple," Jay reminded him.

"That's got nothing to do with it. I - just. I think I'll need you afterward, okay?" Jay could see the emotions playing behind Mickey's eyes. He could see he was tensed and worried.

"Okay," he agreed.

***

Not even half an hour later, Mickey was on their doorstep. Jeremy had put sweatpants and a t-shirt on and had managed -- and had the decency to -- put Mandy's underwear back on.

"Where is she?" He asked, entering a flat he didn't really know. Jeremy nodded toward a small hallway and they made their way there. As always, Jeremy stood against the door frame and watched Mickey approaching his girlfriend.

"Hey, Mandy. Look, I'm here," he said slowly and softly, kneeling next to the bed to be at eye level with her bloodshot blue eyes. A light glint appeared in them, and Mickey took this as his cue to keep on. He glanced at his brother-in-law by the door, nodding at him. Mickey took off his jacket and shoes. He pushed Mandy slightly so that she was laying in the middle of the bed. He joined her under the covers, and she immediately clung at him -- like the 8 year old Mandy used to do on bad nights. She soaked his shirt with tears, but he kept on whispering words he was used to say for over 15 years now.

After a moment, her breathing settled properly, almost falling asleep. He made a move for Jeremy to join them. The guy knew better than trying to get too close to her when she had these kind of attacks. He crawled under the sheets on the other side of the bed, sneaking an arm around her waist carefully.

They stayed the three of them like this for a couple of hours. Mandy had fallen asleep, and like she'd done for about a year now, she'd turned toward the other man, feeling his arms around her reassuring and safe. Mickey watched her for a bit, watching her slowly escaping him, slowly becoming attached to someone else to _this_ point.

He silently got up, put his shoes back on, grabbed his jacket from the floor and left the apartment.

How sad the streets of Chicago were at 4 AM with the memories of a traumatized childhood.

*******

When he was back to his apartment, he found Jay fast asleep in his bed, sprawled onto the whole mattress. He undressed himself once more and slipped under the covers -- and under one of the other man's arm. Jay let out some unintelligible noises before shifting toward him, hugging him in his sleep.

Just as he was finally about to fall asleep, the strident noise of an alarm ringing filled his ears. Jay stirred next to him.

"What the fuck?" he mumbled.

"I'm gonna fucking kill them," Mickey breathed before putting pillows over their ears to cover the sound.


	4. Please, care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big _'Thanks'_ to Meggy for helping me with my doubts over this chapter. And another big _Thank you _for all the people following this story and supporting me. I hope I won't let you down with this.__

Ian had stalker-y tendencies. He knew it. He knew that once he'd found a person that he may like -- whether to be friend with them or actually sleep with them -- he'd do anything to be at the same place as them. Like, pure coincidence. Except they weren't. Not really.

It just happened that Shawn and him shared most of their shifts. Like, it happened that they went to the same coffee shop before work. Shawn had seen in his little game though, quickly catching on and playing with him. It was friendly at first, because Ian's gaydar can be kind of fucked up sometimes. But the day the blond man had gone to Boystown and that Ian had taken _coincidentally_ the same train as him, he understood. He understood that this friend could be more if they both wanted to. And clearly, they did.

All that to say that yes, he was _stalkerish_ on the edges. The day after seeing this guy in the lobby -- and the ones after -- he kept track as much as he physically could about who went to visit the apartment upstairs. The visits had continued for two days after the man had come, but a week after, he still hadn't seen anyone, nor really heard someone moving in the apartment above his.

This was his last chance, and too bad if it was obvious. He was on his way back home, the sidewalk busy at 5:45 PM.

"Hi, Mr Kripple?" he said when the line connected. "It's Ian Gallagher."

"Oh, hi Ian. What's up?" the other man answered, apparently shuffling around from what Ian could hear.

"So, I was wondering if you thought about the problem with the mailboxes. I know I already talked to you about this several times, but this is getting worse."

"Yes, I have to call the other owner of the building. You know I'm not the only one making decisions for common parts."

"It's just a key, Mr Kripple. Or a lock."

"We were thinking about changing the whole rows, they're getting too old anyways." Ian huffed on his end, obviously the older man had to make it a bigger problem than it actually was.

"Fine, alright. Could you keep me updated then?"

"Sure. Is that all you wanted?" his landlord asked him just as he reached the door of his building.

"Did you manage to find someone for the 7th floor apartment in the end?" he knew his voice sounded hesitant, but he needed to know.

"Oh, yes. The young man must have moved in by now. Very discreet, I'm telling you. He works nights so maybe you haven't seen him yet."

"Huh, no. That's why I was asking. Good to know there's gonna be new faces in the building," Ian fake-cheered, having his answer. Now, he just had to know if _ the young man _ was the one he'd seen or if this was someone else.

"Well, I have to go. I'll keep you updated, Mr Gallagher."

***

"Ian, come here. Dinner's gonna get cold," Debbie told him impatiently, tapping her feet on the floor as the lasagna in front of her were getting cold.

"Just a sec, Debs," Ian replied, smoking vigorously at his cigarette by the window. His eyes were fixed on the sidewalk below, waiting not so patiently. It was his second day doing his, watching by the window, waiting for a man he didn't know to appear. He had heard some shuffle the night before, even moans and grunts if he had to put names on them, so he guessed this had been the guy's day off or something. Just as he was about the throw the blunt by the window, he saw him. There was still enough daylight but the street lamps had been turned on about ten minutes ago. The first thing he saw was the dark hair, then the pale skin. Even from his floor, he recognized the guy. It was him. It had to be him.

"Debs, come here," he hurried his little sister. Debbie glanced down, seeing the shape of a man, cloud of smoke above him.

"Yeah, so?"

"That's the guy. He moved in upstairs," he told her like she should know what he was talking about.

" _ So _ ? Do you think I actually see him enough to tell you if he's hot or not? Ian, we can just see black hair and white skin from here, how do you know it's him?"

"I'm sure it is," Ian confirmed her, finally getting rid of his smoked cigarette.

"Well, now that you know, can we eat? I have class tomorrow," she said, grabbing him by the forearm to drag him toward the table.

"How's class?" he finally asked her when his mind dropped the other man subject.

"Don't bullshit me, Ian. I barely started them," she retorted, seriousness on her face.

"Damn, Debs. Excuse me for caring about you," he replied, looking down at his plate, toying with the meat.

"You don't know why I'm here, do you?"

"What? You didn't want to see your older brother?" He joked.

"I wanted to see how he's doing since he had a low phase hitting him so hard he puked his guts out."

"How do you know?" He went still for a second.

"Don't be stupid, Ian. I don't think you screamed it on the roof tops. Shawn texted me that night with your phone. That's nice of you to not wanting me to know, but don't ever do that again."

"I guessed you felt bad too..." he mumbled.

"Yeah, I did feel bad. I felt bad for caring too much about her when she was a lost cause. I shouldn't have cared, but she was our mom. That doesn't mean you're exactly like her, Ian," she took a deep breath, not wanting to act like she was, well, her mother. "I don't want you to be alone, Ian, okay?" she added, reaching for his hand. "I know the situation is kinda fucked up with the others, but you got me alright? I won't judge you, and I'll never hold it against you if you call me at 3 AM 'cause you're feeling sick. You're my family, Ian."

"I know, Debs. Thanks."

"Now, eat your damn lasagna so that I didn't cook for shit," she told him with a laugh.

"Yes, Mom," he joked.

"I can't find a subtle way to ask that, so... Your meds okay? Still good or is there any problems?"

"It's good but I got an appointment next week, I think we might need to reevaluate the dosage with the problems I had."

"Okay, good. You'll tell me if there's anything I can do, right?"

"Yes, I'll tell you, Debbie. Now eat your damn lasagna so that you didn't use my kitchen for shit," he mocked her words.

"You're gonna pay for that, Ian Gallagher," she said told taking her first bite of food.

***

The next day, something attracted his eye by the mailboxes. There was a small notice board for people to put their shit on.  _ 'Have you seen this cat?'  _ ; _ 'FITNESS CLUB OPENING'  _ ; _ 'Petition for a garbage local' _ ; stuff like that. An handwritten one had been added.

_6th - 7th - 8th FLOOR_

_If you have to get up at 5:30 to go to work,  
remember some others don't._

There was a phone number with it  _ 'for further information' _ . Ian took it, obviously. No one had ever put something like this on the board before, this must be the new guy.

He was toying with the idea to call him, but what would he say?  _ 'Hi, I wake up at 5:30. Are you the bubble butt guy from upstairs?' _

He decided that this introduction wasn't the best or the most subtle one. Instead, he decided to go the other way around.

"Hello?" he tried when the line was connected.

"Yeah?" the voice sounded younger than the guy might have been.  _ Fuck. _

"Hum, I'm Ian Gallagher, I live on the 6th floor. I saw your message on the board downstairs," he ended it like it was a question.

"Oh, wait up," the guy said. Then he heard muffled noises, like the guy was talking with his hand covering the phone. _"Mick, come on, put that away. Asshole online."_

_Nice one._

"Yes?" another voice asked him.

"Ian Gallagher, 6th floor," he repeated, sighing. "You put a message downstairs."

"Oh yeah, you're the one?"

"The one?"

"With the fucking alarm? Man, this shit is waking me up."

"So that's why you're complaining? 'Cause you're hearing an alarm?"

"Yeah well, I work nights so being awaken at 5:30 because some asshole has an alarm loud enough to wake up to whole building is fucking annoying."

"Mick, calm down," he heard the other voice saying.

"No, man. It woke you up last time too. Don't act like it's not bullshit."

Ian cleared his throat to remind them of his presence.

"Yeah, man. Could you, I don't know, put the sound lower or some shit? This shit is annoying as fuck."

"You're new, right?" Ian asked him instead.

"What does it have to do with it?" the guy huffed.

"No one ever complained about this before, that's why."

"Maybe the previous renter was deaf, I don't know. Turn this shit down or you'll regret it."

"Are you threatening me right now? Over an alarm?"

"Yeah well, some needs to sleep and to not get up at the crack of dawn, yeah. Don't mess up with my sleep or I'll mess up with you. That simple."

"Fuck you," Ian let out.

"Well, fuck you too then," the guy simply said before hanging up.

To say that the conversation hadn't gone as expected was an euphemism. Damn, this guy was asshole. A cute asshole, but still.

[7:59 PM] Ian Gallagher: _D'you wanna come by?_

[8:01 PM] Shawn Thomas: _Food or lube?_

[8:02 PM] Ian Gallagher: _Lube._

[8:05 PM] Shawn Thomas: _I'm on my way._

***

As soon as Shawn had arrived, he pushed his pants down to his ankles and fucked him against the front door. He knew fucking his frustrations away was one of the best kind of fucking that existed. But he also knew that wasn't what could make the situation better.

Shawn had barely had the time to catch his breath after coming all over his hand that Ian was on him again, getting rid of his clothes properly this time and leading him to the bedroom.

After round two, Ian was finally sedated and laid still on the dirtied bed. Shawn could feel the come leaking from his hole, but he didn't particularly care -- he knew a matching stain was already on the sheet thanks to his own orgasm.

"You're gonna tell me what's up now?" he asked him, turning to look him.

"Nothing's up," Ian said.

"Literally, not anymore yes," he responded with a cheeky smirk. "You never do this. Call me just to fuck me as soon as I'm here."

"We're fuck buddies, that shouldn't surprise you," Ian told him, tone cold.

"Stop that shit right now," Shawn was serious all of a sudden, taking Ian aback. "What's going on Ian?"

"I was horny, that's all." Shawn's response was a glare. "Okay, fine," Ian sighed heavily. "You know the guy that moved in, with one with the perfect ass?"

"Right in the feels," Shawn faked being shot in the heart.

"Yeah, keep on laughing," Ian said, turning back around.

"No, tell me, sorry. Keep going," he apologized, tickling at his sides to get Ian's attention back.

"He's an asshole. Like, he put a message downstairs complaining about someone waking up at 5:30, aka me, I think. So I called him and he threw a issy fit 'cause apparently my alarm wakes him up."

"I told you this shit was loud," Shawn agreed.

"Come on, I grew up with a big family, if you wanted to hear your alarm, this had to be loud," Ian retorted.

"Hey, I know that. He doesn't. So?"

"So? He threatened me and the other guy called me an asshole already."

"The other guy?"

"Yeah, the one who answered the phone," Ian dismissed him.

"So, he's living with another guy and you have his eyes on him? Interesting."

"I don't know if he lives with him. And I don't have my eyes on him, what are you saying?"

"Oh come on, Ian. I know you, better than you may think. You're totally down for this guy even though you don't know it. You've been down for him as soon as you saw him."

"No, I don't."

"Ian," he said sternly, looking at him intently. "It's my ass you fucked that night. You've never fucked me like this."

"So?"

"Damn, you're stubborn, aren't you?" He pushed him lightly on the chest, only making Ian laugh.

***

Shawn was right, though. He may be crushing on him a bit. No, let's be serious. This guy was getting angry over an alarm and had 'FUCK' tattooed on his knuckles of one hand. He couldn't be crushing on him when he had a guy like Shawn around. Or maybe his fucked up brain had decided that he'd want what he can't have.

That's maybe why he was sitting there on his windowsill, smoking his post dinner cigarette, looking down on the street, waiting to see this man again.

It didn't miss. The man got out of the building at the same time he had spotted him the time before. He eyed him walking away until he turned the corner.

***

When he woke up the next day, by his apparently really loud alarm clock, he was greeting by yells too.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP," he heard from upstairs, added with foot -- or maybe hands? -- tapping on the floor.

***

It took him another four days to finally see him. Properly. Not perched on his 6th floor window, no. When he'd come back from work, the guy was in the lobby, taking his mail out. Or at least trying.

Ian wanted to give him a hand, but at the same time, the guy was an asshole, why would he help him?

Still, he couldn't bring himself to not look at his ass, how his jeans fitted him perfectly, how his shirt was slightly up due to his hands being up in the air to try to unlock the damn thing. After another minute of resistance, Ian took a step forward.

"Here, let me," he told him. He wished someone would have shown him the trick back when he'd moved in.

If he wasn't mistaking, the guy was eyeing him up and down. Was he really checking him out right now? The guy was calling him an asshole, getting angry at him and now he was eyeing like this? What the fuck was wrong with him.

"You gotta put it sideways, try to unlock and then put the key entirely in it, and magic!" he told him when the box opened. He turned toward him, actually catching his eyes not looking at his face but more downward.

"Thanks man," he told him, a shy smile on his face. This wasn't the idea he'd made of the guy over the phone, though. "D'you know if they're planning on fixing this? I know I just arrived but shits are worse than I'd expected."

"Yeah, they'll keep me updated apparently," Ian told him, surprised by his attitude.

"Nice. I'm Mickey by the way. Just moved on the 7th," he told him, presenting his hand. Ian shook it eagerly. Okay, so the guy didn't who he was yet, interesting. He hadn't recognized his voice or anything, maybe he could play with that then. "You are?" he prompted him when Ian didn't say a word.

"You don't wanna know," he smiled at him before leaving the lobby.

***

If Ian set his alarm a little louder the next day, it wasn't on purpose.  _ At all. _

 


	5. Your importance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT: Yes, this chapter is longer than the others, but due to my way of narrating this story, a major part is a rewriting of the previous chapter seen by Mickey and how the events turned out in his point of view. That said, that doesn't mean it's not important neither.  
> I'd like to thank you all for your support and apologize in advance for the super massive Mickey/Jay in this chapter. Don't you worry, Ian/Mickey will be in the picture. Once things are settled ;)

The pillows did a piss poor job to muffle the sound of the alarm. Okay, asshole turned it down pretty quickly for once, but still.

"What the fuck is this?" Jay said clearer than his previous words.

"Asshole's alarm. Downstairs, I guess," Mickey quickly explained, not wanting to properly wake up that early. This night wasn't on his side. Jay didn't ask much and tried to go back to sleep too.

After less than ten minutes of silence, Mickey shuffled closer to the other man.

"You're still awake, aren't you?" he muttered, in case he was wrong.

"Wide awake," Jay sighed.

"Shit," Mickey said aloud. Jay shifted on the bed, pushing Mickey off of his chest. "What are you doing?"

"Getting up," he told him. "Pancakes or waffles?"

"You can't cook," Mickey retorted.

"How could you know?" Jay grinned.

"You can cook?" Mickey repeated, surprised. Jay smiled properly as an answer before actually talking, repeating himself though.

"Pancakes or waffles?"

"Waffles," Mickey finally accepted.

"Okay, you stay in bed," he kept on, running his fingers in the messy dark hair. "Try to rest a bit, I'll get you when it's ready." Jay grabbed his boxers on the floor. Groin covered and t-shirt in hand, he started making his way to the kitchen when he was stopped by Mickey's voice.

"You don't have to do this."

"I want to, Mick. Why can't I be good for you when you've been great for me all that time?" Jay asked him, way too serious for a conversation happening at not even 6 AM. "Stay here," he said again, approaching the man, putting his hand flat on his stomach. "I can do this for you," he muttered before pecking him on the lips.

***

"I told you to stay in bed," Jay sighed, hearing Mickey's footsteps coming closer. The food was almost ready, but he had wanted to get him properly. He would've liked for Mickey to be able to rest a bit more than he actually had.

"You're not my housewife," Mickey told him, sitting at the table, waiting for him.

"Really?" Jay smiled, coffee in hand and plate of waffles in the other one.

"Well, the apron is missing otherwise I could've mistaken you for one, you're right," a real smile appeared on Mickey's face despite his exhaustion.

"I know," Jay laughed, handing him the plate, "here."

"Thanks."

"So..." Jay started hesitantly. "What happened with Mandy last night?" he tried. "I mean if you wanna tell me. It's totally okay if you don't though, she's your sister not -"

"Shut up," Mickey told him, mouth filled with a too big piece of waffle, syrup on his lips. He chewed it lazily and swallowed it before answering, "Crisis, you know? It's just that I wasn't there that quickly this time..."

"Oh..." the other man let out. "She's still having these?"

"Yes... Apparently it'll never stop. It's getting better with the years though, it'd been a couple of months since she hadn't had one. I mean, I just -"

"Eh, it's okay," he told him, placing the hand that'd been holding his mug of coffee on Mickey's forearm. "She's got Jeremy. She's got you. She's safe, don't worry that much," he added, brushing off the frown that was starting to appear on Mickey's face.

"I know that. But she's still my baby sister, man."

"I get it," Jay finished, sipping his coffee as Mickey did the same.

They ate silently for the remaining of their meal. Mickey stole a piece of waffle in Jay's plate and the other man let him -- stealing some of his coffee in exchange.

"D'you mind if I take a shower before leaving for class? I don't really have time to go back home before," he said almost apologetically.

"What if I say no?" Mickey retorted, hands already wet from the hot water, ready to clean the dishes.

"You're serious right now?" Jay asked, really surprised as he approached him -- he had already started to make his way to the bathroom assuming the response would be positive. Mickey stayed silent until he was joined by the younger man.

"Of course not," he finally broke out, "go take your shower, princess."

"You're an asshole," Jay said, but he was laughing too.

"I'm an asshole," Mickey agreed as he put both of his hands on Jay's face, wetting it with hot water and dish soap.

***

"So, what's your plan for the alarm thing?" Jay said loudly from the bathroom.

"What do you want me to do?" Mickey replied, opening the bathroom door. "Is this my razor?" he said, pointing at the one Jay was using to shave his stubble. He stared at himself in the mirror, stilling his actions, then looked back at Mickey.

"Yes," he said it more like a question.

"Anyway," Mickey continued, "What d'you want me to do about it? 'Cause except yelling at them to shut it down, I don't have any other idea."

"You don't have any ways to communicate with the other people living in this building? Apart from putting stuff in every mailboxes, I mean," he added, rinsing his face once he was done.

"There's this kind of info board downstairs," Mickey finally said.

"Here's your solution. Well, maybe. You write a thing for this dude -- or chick, we don't know -- and wait til they make contact."

"And what do I write? _'Hey fucker get rid of your alarm you're pissing me off'_? Not really," he said, keeping on watching the other man getting ready.

"I can write it if you want. Plus your handwriting is shitty so I guess it's better that way," he told him, making his way out to go to the bedroom -- getting his discarded clothes from the floor.

"Hey, did you take all the hot water?!" Mickey said suddenly, finally noticing the steam on the mirror and the humid heat in the room. He faced Jay who was now only shirtless.

"No, I didn't, don't you worry," he told him, lacing his arms around him to let his heat warm Mickey. "Mind if I borrow a t-shirt too?"

"Go ahead," Mickey replied, slightly shivering when he parted from the embrace, sitting on his bed.

"So," Jay said, putting a random shirt on. He grabbed his bag from the other room and started scribbling a message on a sheet of paper to put downstairs. "Is that okay?" he said when he was done, but Mickey only shrugged as a response. Mickey watched him writing his phone number too.

"You know my phone number by heart?"

"No," Jay immediately retorted.

"You totally do," Mickey accused him with a smile.

"Shut up," Jay brushed him off but instead Mickey kissed him on the lips suddenly.

"You're cute sometimes," he muttered against his lips.

"I don't do cute," Jay mumbled. Glancing down at his watch, he saw that he was almost late -- despite being up before 6 AM, go figure. "I should go," he told him, looking up at him. "Try to go back to sleep alright. I'm gonna put this downstairs," he waved at the paper in his hand, "and I'll be back tonight?"

"Sure," Mickey answered, "see you tonight."

Mickey watched him as he got up to leave, gathering his belonging in the living room -- only taking with him what was necessary.

"And go back to sleep!" he yelled at him before leaving for good. Mickey smiled lightly at the thought, and slipped back under the covers, sighing as he met his pillow again.

***

He rolled and rolled and rolled in bed, unable to fall back asleep. Only the presence of Jay next to him had managed to make him slightly more comfortable but now he was cold and alone. Cold, despite it being only the second half of August.

[9:03 AM] Mickey Milkovich: _I'm bored. What dyou wanna do tonight?_

Jay didn't answer, though. Not right away at least, leaving him alone with his thoughts. Mandy had moved on. She still had some problems, but how couldn't she, having been raised by Terry for the first eight years of her life. And _raised_ was a big word. And here was Mickey, 26, living by himself for the first time in his life, never having had a proper relationship -- understand actually dating someone -- playing around with a boy five years younger than him that was still deep down in the closet. They weren't a couple, and they knew that if it evolved to this one day, stuff were going to explode -- or implode -- and they would break it off pretty quickly.

[10:32 AM] Jay Asher: _I was in class, aren't you supposed to be sleeping?_

[10:34 AM] Mickey Milkovich: _Can't..._

[10:37 AM] Jay Asher: _Okay well, plan whatever you want for tonight. Just, I'm not staying the night._

[10:38 AM] Mickey Milkovich: _Why?_

[10:43 AM] Jay Asher: _Gotta head home afterwards to get some shit actually done._

[10:44 AM] Mickey Milkovich: _Okay. Gotta work anyway._

***

Mickey did try to fall back asleep afterwards. He really did. But at some point, he gave up the hopes to get some hours of rest before working his 6-hour long shift. When his thoughts drifted back to getting another job to get busy during the day, he made up his mind to get up and finally unpack the couple of boxes he had pushed in the corner of his living room, too lazy to do it sooner.

***

It was almost 6 PM when Jay buzzed him and then made his way up to his home. When Mickey unlocked the door, Jay sighed.

"You really didn't get any sleep, did you?"

"It shows that much?" Mickey actually asked.

"Mick," he said, closing the door behind him, "you're a pale ass fucker with black hair. Purple bags under your eyes are easy to notice."

"Shut up, I'm not that pale," Mickey retorted, not even convincing himself.

"Man, you got sunburnt after 5 fucking minutes outside," Jay teased him, laughing a bit, knowing Mickey wasn't mad about the situation.

"I did not," he replied, grabbing a cushion from the couch and hitting Jay right in the head.

"Oh you did not," Jay said slowly, menacingly. He rushed over the couch, grabbing another cushion and aiming at Mickey's face in return. At the sight of it, you could mistake them for two kids, chasing the other one around in his apartment, _weapons_ in hands.

Jay was cornered in the kitchen when Mickey's phone starting ringing next to him. Seizing his chance, he grabbed the phone to accept the call.

"Yeah?" he said as an answer to another man talking. "Oh, wait up," he added when the guy said who he was. He put his hand on the receiver as best as he could, keeping his cushion in hand just in case. "Mick, come on," he said, looking at the other man who was still decided to keep on that game. "Put that away. Asshole online," he finally said, giving Mickey a significant look.

Jay watched him pacing around the room, talking vividly to that other guy. When he saw Mickey was losing his temper with him, he tried to intervene.

"Mick, calm down," he told him, putting a hand on his shoulder blade.

"No, man. It woke you up last time too. Don't act like it's not bullshit," Mickey replied, then was back online with the other guy.

With one final sentence, Mickey suddenly hung up, turning back towards the other man.

"He's seriously an asshole. Won't even put the sound like lower or some shit. Only thinking about himself," he huffed, plopping on the couch, the cushion war quickly forgotten.

"Hey," Jay tried again, sitting down next to him. "We'll figure something out."

"Figure something out?" Mickey said louder than necessary. "Are you serious right now?! What d'you wanna do? Kill the guy? Make him move or some shit?"

"First, you calm down immediately, not my fault this shit's happening," Jay stopped him seriously. "Now, if it keeps on like this we, _you_ , just have to find something to annoy him too. Simple."

"And what's your great idea?" Mickey snorted, but did calm down eventually.

"Don't know. It's your neighbor, not mine."

***

"Jesus man!" Mickey gasped when he reached his front door at 4 AM, seeing Jay sitting down next to it. "What the fuck are you doing here?" he asked him, checking their surroundings before unlocking the door.

"Couldn't sleep, so I guess we could use the rest of this night properly?" he said casually, but with a dirty smirk on his face.

"A text would have been too much to ask?" Mickey grumbled as they entered his bedroom. He was tired, really tired. But having Jay here right now, he thought why not?

"You would've told me to go to sleep or some shit," Jay deadpanned, watching Mickey getting rid of his shoes.

"You're right. I would've," Mickey admitted, taking his socks off, not giving the other man a single hint.

"So?" Jay finally said, impatiently.

"So? Get in me or what?" Mickey smiled, licking the corner of his mouth. Jay lost no time to get their clothes off, covering Mickey's body with his.

***

Mickey was still laying on his front, breath uneven as Jay was half sprawled on his back. Their sweat gluing them should gross them out a bit, but they didn't seem to mind. Hearing the other man's breathing starting to get slower, even, lulled him to sleep. Until it didn't anymore.

_BEEP BEEP BEEP._

"SHUT THE FUCK UP," he yelled, jolting Jay conscious again. He let his arm hang from the bed, hitting the floor with his hand as much as he could.

***

For the next couple of days, Jay didn't sleep at Mickey's, leaving the Milkovich man by himself. He needed to get some actual sleep, not being able to use the day to rest like Mickey could. And obviously, Mickey couldn't join him at his house -- meeting the parents wasn't the best idea ever.

He did try to think of ideas to annoy the asshole downstairs, making him understand that him too could play that game. Some ideas popped up in his mind, but he couldn't do that. No, he couldn't. He wasn't that shameless.

He was in the elevator when Mandy called him, asking him if things were settled with the neighbor and all. He explained her, but quickly tried to brush the subject off.

She then made another try at knowing who Mystery Man was, getting more information on him, but Mickey saw clear in her game, she couldn't fool him that easily.

He was standing in front of the mailboxes when he hung up, telling her he was already late for work. Lies. But he couldn't bear talking about Jay like he didn't matter to him. Cause clearly he did.

It wasn't 6 PM yet, but his boss had wanted him for a longer shift. His lack of sleep and frustration towards the shitty boxes got hold of him. The damn thing wouldn't open, and Mickey clearly thought about his choices in life. What did he think moving in this building and this apartment was a good idea?

"Here, let me," he suddenly heard, making him aware that, in fact, he wasn't alone in this lobby. He couldn't stop himself from checking the guy out. He was the redhead he'd seen the day he'd visited the apartment. The cute _hot_ redhead. And he was talking to him. Helping him out. Mickey could feel himself grew hotter, and for once he was glad for the heat, knowing his blush couldn't be seen with how hot it was. "You gotta put it sideways, try to unlock and then put the key entirely in it, and magic!" the cute redhead kept on, stopping his train of thoughts. He quickly shook his head, looking up at him with a shy smile. _Fuck, he caught me staring_ , Mickey thought.

"Thanks man," he finally said. "D'you know if they're planning on fixing this? I know I just arrived but shits are worse than I'd expected," he found himself saying.

"Yeah, they'll keep me updated apparently," the redhead answered, a clear look of surprise on his face.

"Nice. I'm Mickey by the way," Mickey told him, surprising himself too by his own forwardness. "Just moved in on the 7th," he added presenting his hand. The redhead shook it eagerly, making him wonder what was the deal with this guy. He was acting kinda weird, but if he could find himself in bed with him at some point, he didn't really mind. The handshake seemed to last forever, Mickey wanting to put a name on this angelic face. "You are?" he prompted when he realized the redhead wasn't about to speak.

"You don't wanna know," he smiled instead, going for the elevator without even taking his mails out.

Mickey stayed there for a minute, trying to understand what just happened. Shaking his head, trying to get rid of the dirty images that popped up in his mind, he grabbed his mails and left the lobby.

***

Was this a joke? The sound was louder. This had to be. Mickey nearly had a heart attack when he heard it. The tiredness made his mind dizzy, unable to yell and to hit the floor to make the other man realize how much of an asshole he was.

He unconsciously grabbed his phone, hitting few buttons to call back the number that had called him in the first place.

"You're _fucking_ seriously an asshole man, some are trying to sleep," he grumbled when the line was connected. His voice was heavy with sleep, himself not knowing if his words were intelligible.

"Good morning to you too, mumbles!" the man cheered. God, he was going to kill him.

"Fuck off, turn that shit lower for fuck's sake. You're gonna regret it," Mickey said, words forming a little better than before.

"Regret it? You already promised this, nothing happened. Not scared of you, man," the neighbor said. Mickey could hear him moving around. "Well, if you don't have nothing else to say, I'm gonna hang up and go for my run. Good to hear you again," he fake cheered.

"You wake me up, I'll keep you awake all night. See how it feels," Mickey said, without even noticing how the words could be taken as an innuendo.

"Not like I won't mind," the man said before actually hanging up.

 _What the fuck_ , Mickey thought, falling back asleep easily for once.

***

[1:15 PM] Mickey Milkovich: _Got an idea to piss the guy off._

[1:23 PM] Jay Asher: _Shoot._

[1:26 PM] Mickey Milkovich: _Come by tonight, and be ready to not sleep. Not until 5:30 at least ;)_

[1:32 PM] Jay Asher: _I'm off work at 7:30 tonight. What do you got in mind?_

[1:34 PM] Mickey Milkovich: _Just bring lube. We're gonna have fun._

[1:35 PM] Jay Asher: _YOU'RE NOT SERIOUS???_

***

"You're not serious?" Jay asked him again when he entered the apartment.

"Deadly serious. He wakes me up, I'll make sure he won't sleep. That simple," Mickey said, locking the door behind Jay before leading him to the kitchen.

"But like, how do you wanna annoy him like this? Fucking on the floor?"

"You got it," Mickey said, a grin on his face. He pushed a pizza in front of Jay before talking again,"here, you're gonna need some strength for tonight."

Jay watched him with wide eyes before grabbing a slice of pizza. Mickey's smile didn't falter as he grabbed some food too.

***

They were covered in sweat, the floor dirty from the two orgasms they already both had. It was almost 1 AM but Mickey still had the strength in him. If it annoyed the fucker downstairs, and made him climax at the same time, it was a double win for him.

"Shit," Jay breathed, turning toward Mickey whose body was still flushed. "You did hear him too, right?"

"Yeah," Mickey laughed. " _'You're not fucking serious'_ ", he mimicked the neighbor's voice -- well, yells. Jay joined him, laughing too.

"I didn't know we could be that loud," he admitted, snuggling closer to Mickey, eyes heavy with sleep.

"Yes, you do," Mickey retorted with a fake look of shock on his face. "You don't remember that time I came by to see you at college?"

"And that we fucked in Eva's dorm room?" Jay added.

"Yes, that time," Mickey smiled. "I thought one of the girls was going to pop in at any time, you know? They were so outraged, remember?"

"Yeah, I do," the younger man replied, thinking about that time. "I think they were jealous, though. They thought it was Eva I was fucking."

"I don't make chick's noises, man," Mickey hit him on the chest.

"You sure?" he teased him.

"I'm fucking sure," he pushed him on the chest hard again, making him lay on his back. "Let me show you," he added, straddling his hips once more. Jay gave him a dirty grin as a response. "Oh, that's what you wanted, wasn't it?" he muttered in his ear, rubbing their groins together.

"Guess," the other man said, putting both hands on Mickey's butt, separating his cheeks to let him hardening cock sliding between them.

"Then fuck me properly," Mickey demanded, kissing him hard on the lips as he felt Jay stiffening against him.

Mickey took the other man's shaft in his hand, stroking him rapidly before guiding him inside of him for the third time that night.

"Shit," he groaned, throwing his head back. It was the first time he was on top tonight, and the change of position hit him in different places.

***

They were loud again, Jay banging his head from time to time on the floor, trying to muffle the sounds his throat was making. Mickey told him to be as loud as he wanted, that he wanted to hear him as he bit his neck, lips, and every spot of skin he found appealing at that moment.

"Oh fuck," Jay groaned, his head hitting the ground harder than before as he closed his eyes. His hands gripped Mickey's hips with strength, surely bruising the pale skin already. "Jesus, Mickey," he gasped when Mickey rolled his hips once more.

They barely heard the phone ringing next to them, but Mickey saw the screen illuminated with a number he recognized.

"What are you doing?" Jay panted when he saw Mickey grabbing his phone, unlocking it to answer the call.

"Yeah?" He moaned deeply on the phone.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" the other man said on the other end, exasperated.

"What are - _shit_ \- what are you talking about?" Mickey's voice was still rasp and filled with arousal he didn't intend to hide.

"Are you still fucking your girlfriend right now? While I'm calling you?" he said.

"Why would I stop living for you, huh?" Mickey panted, exaggerating his breath, but not by much.

"Some has to work in the morning," the guy huffed, clearly annoyed now -- _if not aroused_ , Mickey thought.

"Yeah?" Mickey's voice was moaning again. "You'll think about it with your fucking alarm then - OH SHIT, right there Jay, oh god, fuck," Mickey's eyes crossed with pleasure. Jay was hitting the right spot, having quickened the pace as Mickey had taken the call. "Jesus, fuck," Mickey grunted, head down, mouth wide open. "Shit." Jay brought a hand up, teasing his nipple as he kept on fucking him hard. "Well, goodnight. I'm busy," Mickey finally said to his neighbor, too lost in the pleasure his partner was giving him. He threw his phone over the bed, not really caring about where it landed. As soon as both of his hands were free, he cupped at Jay's jaw, kissing him passionately, breathing in his mouth.

Jay turned them around, being on top now. He pounded into him fervently and Mickey took it all, groaning in pleasure as both of their abs were covered in his precum.

"Jesus," Mickey whined, head thrown back again, this time being to one hitting the floor. "You're too good at this."

"Then come," Jay whispered in his ear, voice husk. Mickey finally opened his eyes again, seeing how hooded Jay's ones were, filled with desire. It didn't take him long, fingers barely touching himself before shooting all over his chest again with a cry. With the scene below him, Jay didn't last much longer either.

"Shit," Mickey breathed after a couple of minutes. This fuck was in their top 3, for sure. "You've got an exhibitionist kink I should know about?"

"Don't think so, but seeing you like this, it was just too good," Jay admitted. "Plus, if it made the asshole downstairs even more uncomfortable, that's perfect."

"I think it did, yeah," Mickey grinned, eyes tired. "I think we should probably sleep now. I don't have another round in me."

"Me neither," Jay agreed, not moving from the floor.

A silence filled with pants settled between them, neither having the strength to get up and move to the bed yet. After a moment, Mickey reluctantly stood up to grab the pillows from his bed, if they were about to sleep on the floor, having a pillow was the least they could do. He looked for his phone at the same occasion, checking if the neighbor -- Ian -- had texted something or tried to call again when they were too gone to notice. Nothing. But he noticed something else.

"D'you know what day is it?" he said lowly as he settled back on the floor.

"24th why?"

"Actually, 25th now," Mickey nudged at his shoulders.

"Oh, I know where you're getting," a smile crept up on Jay face. Mickey could see it despite the darkness in the room.

"I'm sure you don't even remember. You were too drunk," he muttered against his skin.

"Don't remember that I suddenly learned the man who was working as a janitor in my high school, who used to be the only person really caring about my future as I spent my friday evenings in detention, was in fact the brother of my sister-in-law?"

"Putting like this, it really does sound bad," Mickey shifted, leaving some distance between them.

***

He had only worked at the high school for a year. He'd been 22, struggling to make ends meet with Mandy at Malcolm X so he had taken the job. He hated cleaning up after people, don't get him wrong on this. But the pay had been good, no one had been annoying him and it had allowed to to juggle between two jobs.

Though, there was always this kid in detention on Friday nights. The teacher didn't even stay with him, he just left for the teacher's room doing what the fuck ever he wanted to avoid the responsibility to knock some sense in the kid. It had started with _'Why the fuck are you staring at me you perv?'_ and it had ended with _'They don't need me anymore, promise me you'll graduate?'_

What happened between those two lines was a growing friendship between a kid no one cared about and a grown up who used to be that kind of kid. Mickey showed him tricks to handle high school in a better way, helped him out with some homework when he actually could -- or remembered from what he had learned. In exchange, Jay had been Mickey first real friend. His cousins or Mandy didn't count as friends. This kid, though, he did.

They hadn't thought they would ever see each other again. To them, Mickey being fired -- _'You're not fired, Mr Milkovich, we won't need you anymore when the next school year will start, that's all.'_ \-- was the end of whatever relationship they had had.

All that, until last Christmas at Jeremy's. Mandy and him had been dating for over a year now and things had really seemed serious between them. Serious to the point Jeremy had organized the celebration at his apartment, inviting his little brother, girlfriend and brother-in-law instead of spending time at his parents.

Mickey hadn't recognized the kid right away. Obviously because he wasn't a kid anymore. He was a grown up man of 21 year old. But Jay had recognized him, though. How could he had forgotten the man thanks to who he graduated high school and actually got into college?

They hadn't shown Jeremy nor Mandy that they used to know each other, rediscovering the other one's life after 3 years of radio silence. They had easily gotten drunk on whatever was the thing they'd been drinking, and had left when things got hot and heavy between Jeremy and Mandy.

"Got a car or want me to drive you home?" Mickey had slurred, back against the car he used to own at the time.

"Shush," Jay had responded drunkenly, finger against his mouth as he giggled.

"What?" Mickey had laughed too, not even knowing why.

"I missed you, you know," Jay had tried to be serious despite his inebriated state.

"I miss-" Mickey had tried, but had been cut off by lips on his. He had let the other man licking his lips open, tongues dancing together until he had snapped back to reality. "What are you doing, man?!"

"Shit," Jay had been brought back to his sense pretty quickly. "I just thought that - I mean Mandy mentioned you being gay and, and... I like you. And shit, sorry, I shouldn't have," he'd kept on babbling.

"Hey," Mickey'd stopped him, grabbing his elbows hard. "I just don't want you to make a mistake, that's all," he'd told him, bringing him back closer to him. Jay'd chanced his lips on his once more, more softly this time, less hungry. Mickey had absentmindedly opened his car, letting Jay pushing him in. And the rest was how they ended up here 8 months later.

***

"It's not bad," Jay muttered after a moment. "Back then, in high school, it would've been weird. Yes. But not now," he reassured him, pulling him back closer to him. "You're awesome, you know that? You deserve so much, Mickey," he kept on muttering in his hair. His hand stroked Mickey's back, lulling him to sleep. "I wish I deserved you..." he muttered in a breath before falling asleep too.

 


	6. Elevator.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has some alternation of POV between Ian and Mickey. The difference is made pretty clearly, I think. Enjoy :)

Putting his alarm louder didn't miss. At all. He had just turned off the strident beep of his phone for it to buzz an incoming call. _'Mickey'_ appeared on the screen, and Ian didn't feel ashamed at all for having saved the number. He picked it up cheerfully, being welcomed by a grumpy, barely intelligible voice on the other end.

"You're fucking seriously an asshole man, some are trying to sleep," his neighbor said -- or at least, that's what he understood.

"Good morning to you too, mumbles!" Ian cheered. He knew he must be annoying the other man with his early cheerfulness, but hearing his voice at the crack of dawn as if he'd been with him in bed actually made him smile like an idiot.

"Fuck off, turn that shit lower for fuck's sake," Mickey said, more clearer now. "You're gonna regret it."

"Regret it?" Ian actually snorted. The guy had FUCK U-UP tattooed on his hands, which would have been scary if he hadn't looked that adorable and sheepish the day before by the mailboxes. "You already promised this, nothing happened. Not scared of you, man," he added, getting up. He fumbled around, getting his shorts and shirt out. Mickey said nothing, so he kept on. "Well, if you don't have anything else to say, I'm gonna hang up and go for my run. Good to hear you again," he ended with a smile. He meant it. Even if the guy was pissed, it felt good to hear his voice.

"You wake me up, I'll keep you awake all night," he suddenly said. "See how it feels." Ian bit his lip, was it a fucking innuendo right there? He wouldn't mind staying awake all night because, well no, _thanks_ to him.

"Not like I won't mind," he said out loud before shutting himself up. He quickly hung up, too scared of what his neighbor's reaction might be.

***

His day at work was boring. Everything seemed useless and long. Shawn had his shift starting only two hours before the end of Ian's. And some days, Ian didn't feel like hanging with him anyways. Yes, they were friends, and even more. But sometimes, you feel like having time apart. Even for friends. That was what he was thinking right now. He didn't want to be dependent on the other man, even though it might already be too late. He knew better than shaking his routine or pushing himself through over emotional phases, but at the same time, he didn't want to force himself to be someone he wasn't. Keeping his distance, staying with people when _he_ wanted to, that's who Ian was, not someone clinging at another person. No.

Shawn didn't seem to mind, though. He might be used to it, in the end. When Ian's shift was about to end, he only threw a _'See you tomorrow, Ian'_. He didn't offer to come by or for them to go out, nothing.

***

Ian was laying in bed, thinking again of the phone call from this morning. He wondered how his neighbor would keep him awake all night. He tried to think about non-sexual thing, but everything always came back to sex so he shook his head, turning on his side.

It was only a couple of minutes after that he started hearing these repeated sounds, this thump-thump from above. At first, he thought Mickey was repeatedly tapping his hand or foot on the floor, but then he heard it. He heard the tell-tale sign that if his mind was filthy, Mickey's one was filthier. The sounds from above should be illegal. The moans and groans accompanying the tapping didn't seem to be exaggerated by much. The high pitch noises he could hear from time to time annoyed him. He didn't like the idea to hear Mickey fucking his girlfriend. Yeah, 'cause that was totally chick noises that could be heard sometimes. And _that_ , didn't turn him on or made him smile the slightest.

He tried to calm himself down, he had it coming anyways, he knew that. After awhile, the sounds stopped and Ian was kind of grateful of that. Shifting in bed, he closed his eyes again, ready to fall asleep.

But that couldn't be so easy, could it? Half an hour after, the sounds were back, more fervent than before. At some cry then scream from upstairs, he couldn't contain it.

"You're not fucking serious?!" he yelled, looking at the ceiling as if it was going to answer him. The couple upstairs seemed too lost into their fucking to care about Ian anyways so he laid back down, wishing that the guy's stamina wasn't that great for tonight.

In the end, Ian had managed to fall into subconsciousness. It didn't last long, but it was better than nothing. And then, they started again. And Ian could swear he could tear out his own hair out of frustration. It'd been fun, okay. Now it had to stop. He turned on his lamp, and grabbed his phone, scrolling down to find Mickey's number.

"Yeah?" He was welcomed with a long deep moan from the other man. Couldn't he just stop fucking for a minute? Wasn't his dick going to get tired at some point? The sound went straight to his own dick, though. He shifted awkwardly on the bed, as if the other man could see him starting to get hard just over the sound of his voice.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Ian said instead, the exasperation clear in his voice.

"What are - shit," Ian heard him gasp. "What are you talking about?" The tone of his voice was still filled with arousal, turning Ian even more.

"Are you still fucking your girlfriend right now? While I'm calling you?" Ian tried. He needed an answer. Did he have a chance with this guy? Or was he really into chicks? 'Cause it was a girl with him upstairs, right?

"Why would I stop living for you, huh?" Mickey panted.

"Some has to work in the morning," Ian huffed, clearly annoyed to not have his response more than anything else.

"Yeah?" Mickey moaned again. It shouldn't give Ian's dick so much interest. He tried to get some relief by putting the hand that wasn't holding his phone, in his boxers -- slowly caressing his dick. "You'll think about it with your fucking alarm then - OH SHIT," that sent shivers through Ian's spine. This voice, these groans. Damn. "Right there Jay, oh god, fuck," he heard Mickey panting and whimpering. Mickey was fucked, literally. His upstairs neighbor was getting fucked while being on the phone with him. He felt himself leaking on his own hand, stroking his shaft even more. "Jesus, fuck," Mickey grunted. "Shit," he cried now. That Jay guy must have known how to do him with the noises he was making. Mickey brought him back to reality though, "Well, goodnight. I'm busy."

Ian threw his phone on the bed, not really caring where as he took off his boxers entirely. The relief he felt while properly jerking himself off shouldn't be that comforting with his own hand. He breathed deeply, half laying in bed with his eyes closed. The noises filling his ears were turning him on even more

He imagined being the one fucking Mickey, being the one making him say these words and feel like this. His mind wandered to pounding into him on the concrete, like the other man was probably doing right now. He was easily on his edge, leaking all over himself and his sheets too.

When he heard Mickey whined a loud _'Jesus'_ , that made it for him. He shot his load on his own chest, spurting white onto his abs.

He panted in the middle of his bed. He hadn't needed to jerk off for months, having Shawn around and down to fuck at any time. But right then, it felt even better than anything he could think of.

Spent, he cleaned his hand on the sheets, turning the light off and drifted off to sleep pretty quickly.

When his alarm got off only a couple of hours later, finding his phone within his sheets was a pain in the ass -- and not the good kind. He turned it down pretty quickly, shifting to fall back asleep. No run for today.

***

He was suddenly brought back to consciousness over two hours later. Opening his eyes, he saw the sun was perfectly set outside.

"Shit," he muttered, quickly getting up, looking for his phone. 7:46 AM. Not even turning his brain on, he ran to the bathroom, took his medication before jumping in the shower. He couldn't avoid this step this morning with the dry jeez covering his chest.

He grabbed the first clean clothes he saw, took the first thing he found on the kitchen counter to eat on his way to work. In his hurry, he was a bit lucky. The elevator had just stopped at the floor above his, making its way downstairs.

Biting into his apple, he looked up to the other person inside the elevator. He knew pretty much everyone's faces in his building -- not having talked to them, but still. This guy though, was a stranger to him. He was kind of cute with his messy brown curls, stubble starting to appear -- reminding Ian that he hadn't shaved neither -- that led to a trail of shading hickeys down his neck. The guy saw him staring.

"Late?" he offered, seeing the state Ian was in.

"Kinda," Ian admitted before biting in his food once more.

"I'm Jay," the guy said. It took Ian only a couple of seconds to connect the dots, though. Jay, this Jay. He was the guy with Mickey. Porn was suddenly filling Ian's mind, images of the two fucking. He shook his head, not caring about the funny look Jay was giving him. "You live on the 6th right?" Ian only nodded as a response, still chewing. "I know it's going to sound weird but, do you know who lives on the left end? The very end?"

"Yes, I do," Ian admitted, swallowing. A glint appeared in the younger man's eyes.

"Really? Who?"

" _I_ do," Ian repeated. Jay stared at him this time, too shocked to function properly. He suddenly snapped back to reality, looking at Ian up and down once more.

"Enjoyed the show last night," he mocked.

"Didn't take you for a top, but sure," Ian said playfully as the elevator's doors opened. He made his way out only to be stopped by a hand on his shoulder.

"What?!"

"Don't tell Mickey it's me," Ian told him instead.

"What? Why?" The confusing was clear on Jay's face.

"He knows who I am," Ian told him. "Without really knowing. I want him to find out by himself."

"You're fucking crazy, man," Jay huffed, shaking his head. The anger within Ian's body came suddenly crashing him. All those times he'd been called crazy came back to his mind, even though he'd told himself he was over it.

"I'm not," he said coldly. "And you should watch out for your boyfriend. From what I saw, he doesn't mind blatantly checking out other guys when you're not here."

"He's not my boyfriend," Jay let it slip. "But that doesn't mean I'm gonna let you hurt him, alright?"

"I won't _hurt him_. I'm just having fun. You should enjoy it too, considering you're the one sharing his bed."

Jay seemed to hesitate, but after a minute, he talked again. "I won't tell him, okay. But as soon as it goes too far, I'll tell him the truth. I'll tell him you only want to get in his bed."

"Is that jealousy I hear?" Ian teased.

"No -"

"If you're not together, only fuck buddies, you should know how it works, boy," Ian started. "If one of you finds someone else, the other one has to disappear one way or another."

"You shut up," Jay's face was red.

"Hit a nerve, huh?"

"You don't know him like I do, so you shut the fuck up. Have your fun listening to us fucking if you want, that doesn't mean you'll end up being the one standing by his side when he's down." At this, Jay made his way out of the building, leaving Ian dumbfounded in the lobby. He wanted to slap himself for acting this way. This wasn't him. He wasn't that _territorial_ over a guy he never really had a proper face to face conversation with before. Shaking his head, he made his way to work, finishing his so called breakfast while thinking about the reasons that led him to act this way.

***

Ian was fidgeting all day at work, his mind always wandering back to what happened with this Jay guy and then to Mickey, and then the porn he heard that night.

"You okay, man?" Shawn asked him when they were only the two of them in the kind of break room.

"Yeah," Ian dismissed him coldly. Shawn didn't take it for himself, though, approaching the other man.

"Ian, talk to me," he told him softly after having checked out for the presence of someone else.

"Shit," Ian muttered, lacing his arms around Shawn's frame. The blond was surprised by the gesture, but tried to not let it show. He brought his arms up to hug the redhead tighter around him.

"What's happening?" he asked him, still as softly.

"I just - I don't know what I'm doing."

Shawn watched him quizzically, framing his head with both of his hands, running his fingers in the short red hair. "How so?"

"With you. With this guy. I don't know. I think I'm really into him. I don't know why I'm acting this way, man."

"Hey, it's okay," Shawn told him lowly. He made him look up at him. "It's gonna be fine, alright? If, well, when you'll want us to stop whatever we're doing, we will. That doesn't mean you're gonna lose me, man."

Ian smiled shyly at him before pecking him on the lips shortly, "Thank you." He put his head back on Shawn's shoulder, feeling his hand running down his back, comforting.

After a couple of minutes, Shawn talked again, "Okay, now stop snogging on my shirt, my shift isn't done contrary to some others."

Ian let out a short laugh before slapping him on the chest, "Asshole."

***

Talking to Shawn, letting out a part of what was on his mind, was a relief to Ian. As he made his way back home, he couldn't stop thinking about all this. How okay Shawn was about this situation. How he wouldn't care if they retrograded from more than fuck buddies to close friends. He felt lucky. Until he reached the elevator.

_'OUT OF ORDER'_

"You gotta be kidding me," Ian sighed. The stairs in the building were even shittier than the rest: the reason why no one ever used them. The number of the floor weren't even written so you had to count at which one you were every time -- or check the hallway -- and the lights were barely working -- and didn't not work from the 5th floor til the top floor. "Awesome," Ian muttered to himself as he started climbing up the stairs.

Thinking about it, it was a short compensation to the work out he hadn't done that morning.

 

* * *

 

Mickey was tired. He felt like he hadn't had a proper night or day of sleep since he had moved in. His body was screaming at him for not resting enough. The barely 4 hours he was getting every 24h weren't enough to help him concentrating on mixing these drinks and handling the assholes coming around.

And the intense fucking from the night before hadn't helped him to get better on this side of the situation. He could feel Jay as if he was still buried inside of him, but at the same time, the exhaustion was hitting him. Just thinking about having sex right now was tiring him.

Though, it was 4 AM, so that was normal for him to feel tired. His legs absentmindedly led him back to his building, too out of it to properly concentrate on where he was going.

It took him about three minutes, standing in front of the elevator, pushing the button several times before noticing the _'OUT OF ORDER'_ sign taped on the doors.

"Fuck that shit," he muttered, looking around for the stairs. He had never took them. Living on the 7th floor, he didn't particularly liked the idea of climbing that high. Turning on the light, the neon blinded him for a second. And then, they started flickering. "Worse than a bad horror movie," he huffed, starting the climb up the stairs.

After what felt like forever to him, he reached the wanted floor and made his way to his apartment. Or so he thought. He watched his keys for a minute, wondering why the hell all of a sudden the keys were against him too. Why wouldn't it fit? "Fuck," he groaned, persistently trying to unlock the door.

 

* * *

 

Ian was woken up in the middle of the night. Well, not exactly _middle_ for him. It was past 4 AM and he could hear someone trying to break into his apartment.

"What the fuck?" he sighed. As if it couldn't get any more shitty. He quickly got up, grabbing the baseball bat sitting near the TV before making his way to the door.

He carefully and as silently as possible unlocked it, ready to swing the bat at whoever was on the other side.

"What the hell?!" Mickey gasped, taking a step back. "What the fuck?!" he repeated. Ian, mouth agape, stared at him. Letting the bat down, his brain connected.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he asked. He was aware of his lack of clothes, his plaid boxers being the only thing covering his body right now. And having Mickey checking him out shamelessly on the other side of the threshold didn't help much to make him comfortable.

"I must've gotten out at the wrong floor," Mickey finally said, licking his lips. "Which floor is this?" he asked, instead of simply checking the number on the door, eyes still fixed on Ian's body.

This was too soon, Ian thought. Their little game was over too soon. Mickey would know who he was without him having planned out the end of it. Shit.

"6th floor," Ian finally said, sighing. Mickey nodded, then stilled his actions for a moment, to finally look up at him.

"You're the fucking asshole?!" he said, a little too loud for Ian's liking. The redhead smiled sheepishly at him, not really knowing what to answer. "You fucking lied to me and -"

"Hey, I never lied," Ian stopped him.

"You gotta be kidding me right now!" Mickey was getting angry with the minutes, his voice growing louder.

"Eh, shut up," Ian told him, putting a hand on his mouth.

"Don't fucking touch me," was Mickey's reaction as he pushed him away from him. Ian, though, had still his hand secured around his wrist, dragging him into the apartment as he did so.

Mickey pushed him again, throwing him on the floor this time. Ian thought back to the tattoos he had liked, and thought about maybe he had misinterpreted Mickey's behavior. He was about to get punched on the face when he suddenly snapped back to reality, throwing Mickey on the floor next to him. Ian sat on his chest to stop him, but was quickly thrown on his back again, having Mickey on top of him.

Ian stayed still, defeated, with the other man sitting on his chest. Now what? The anger was still visible on Mickey's face, but Ian could discern something else. He brought his hand up to the other man's chest, feeling the muscles underneath the clothes.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?!" Mickey breathed, slapping his hand away.

"Oh come on," Ian found himself saying, self confidence back again. "I saw you, you know? You're not very discreet at checking guys out." Mickey was about to object, but Ian didn't let him. "The sex over the phone was hot, I gotta admit I wouldn't have minded being there instead of only listening." Ian could feel himself hardening at the thought, and Mickey obviously felt it too.

Sitting up on his elbows, Ian continued. "I was only teasing you, you know," he added, licking his lips as he watched the conflicted face Mickey was making. He chanced his hand again on Mickey's chest, only to be rewarded by the dark haired man lunging forward, crashing his lips on his.

Taken aback, Ian's elbow gave up, making his head hit the floor. He moved his hand up to cup at Mickey's jaw, loving the way his lips felt against his. He was quickly welcomed by the other man's teeth too. Mickey bit his bottom lip so hard he drew blood immediately. Ian found himself moaning at the feeling. Scratching his nails against Mickey's side, he took the other man's shirt off, disconnecting their mouth for a second. The look Mickey was giving him was still filled with anger, but lust accompanied it. He pushed his ass against Ian's hard-on, feeling his groans in his mouth.

"Jesus," Ian muttered, moving to stand up. Mickey didn't move much though, lacing his legs around him, arms locked around his neck. Ian put a hand flat on his ass, preventing him from falling on his ass. With his other hand, he pushed the front door closed before leading him to the bedroom.

He threw Mickey mercilessly on the bed and the dark haired man hurried to get rid of the rest of his clothes. Ian looked at him, shamelessly sprawled on his bed, dick hard, waiting for him.

"Gonna get in me or what?" he rasped, and Ian obliged. He covered Mickey's naked body with his, biting at his neck as he fumbled around the drawer for a condom somewhere.

When Ian was standing on his knees, Mickey turned around, going on all fours. Ian bit his lip, enjoying the view too much. _That ass_.

Slicking his fingers, he slipped a single one in.

"You're serious? Don't you think I'm still stretched?!" Mickey told him impatiently. Ian shrugged, and added two other fingers to the one already in. He had to admit, the guy was taking it like it was nothing.

Tearing the condom's wrapper off, he rolled it on his shaft, spreading lube on it. He pushed his way in easily, not waiting.

"Oh fuck," Mickey grunted, arms giving in, his head settling against the pillow. Ian's hands were everywhere on his back and ass. "Jesus," he moaned when he felt the nails digging in his skin.

Ian was pounding into him like there was no tomorrow, and Mickey was taking it all in, thinking about the man who had busied his mind for weeks.

"Damn, your ass's perfect," Ian said despite himself, overwhelmed by the heat surrounding his dick and the flesh underneath his hands.

"I know that," Mickey replied, thrusting back against Ian's hips. "And you're still an asshole," he hissed at one particular hard jab inside of him.

"Oh yeah?" Ian replied, one hand making its way to the dark hair, pulling at it.

"Fuck yeah," Mickey whimpered, back arching. He found himself up on his knees, back against Ian's sweaty chest. "I fucking hate you," he muttered, looking at Ian in the eyes, their mouths too close.

"No, you don't," Ian muttered, hitting his prostate again, making Mickey's eyes crossed right in front of him. The whine Mickey let out wasn't intentional, just like the way he crashed their lips together again.

He kept on whimpering in the other man's mouth, overwhelmed with Ian's dick in his ass, and his hand making its way south to pump his own shaft.

"Fuck," he muttered against his lips. He wouldn't hold it long. The motion in Ian's wrist, his nails digging on his other hip, his tongue driving him crazy... Mickey's orgasm surprised him by its force, making him bite on Ian's lip. The redhead didn't seem to mind, though, as he kept on pounding into him. Once Mickey had ridden his own climax, he plumped down on the bed, letting the other man finish. If the way his hips stuttered was a tale-tell sign, the redhead was close to shooting his load too.

It didn't take long until he was a crying mess behind him, breathing hard as he filled the condom.

"Damn," Ian breathed, slumping against Mickey's back. Mickey didn't say a word. He let him pull out, tying the condom and getting rid of it before laying back down next to him.

 

* * *

 

Mickey woke up to the alarm at 5:30 again. He felt someone stirring against him, and when he opened his eyes, it took him a minute to realize where he was. Shit.

He suddenly sat up in bed, watching Ian getting up and going to the bathroom. "Shit," he said out loud. The redhead turned around, a frown on his face. Mickey quickly grabbed his clothes, putting them on messily before leaving the apartment. "Shit, shit, shit," he kept on muttering as he made his way to the upper floor.

He stopped his mumbling, seeing a body slumped against his door. Shit, Jay. The guy must have fallen asleep waiting for him.

"Hey," he said softly, kneeling down in front of him, slightly shaking his shoulder to wake him up.

"What time is it?" Jay mumbled.

"Over 5 AM," Mickey said as lowly. "Come on," he pulled him up, unlocking the front door and led him to bed. "I told you texting before coming would be better," he teased him gently.

"I know," Jay sighed, putting the covers around him. "Shit," he muttered, sniffing.

"Hey, what's happening?" Mickey asked him, feeling guilty. He knew they weren't together. But in their fuck buddy thing, they were exclusive. None of them was sleeping around. Except that now, Mickey had slept around. What if Jay knew? No, how could he know that an hour ago he was getting pounded into by the downstairs neighbor, known as the asshole, also known as the cute hot redhead in Mickey's mind.

"I'm shit, okay?" Jay muttered.

"Hey, no, why are you saying this?" Mickey shifted to face him.

"I - just - Would you mind if I was into someone else?" he asked sheepishly.

"Why? Are you?" Mickey asked him, still not relieved.

"I think so? I mean, I don't know... I, just -" Jay's words got out of his mouth without his consent.

"Ay ay, don't go soft on me, alright?" Mickey said playfully, trying to smile as he caressed Jay's clothed chest. "D'you like him?"

"I think, yeah, but -" he tried again, only to be cut off. _Again_.

"Does he like you back?"

"He's making me think he does, yes," he admitted. "But Mickey, I don't wanna lose you," he rushed to add.

"You're not gonna lose me, man," Mickey told him sincerely.

"You sure?" Jay felt like asking. He shifted to lay on his stomach, looking intently in Mickey's eyes. "I mean, I know we're not a couple or anything, but we're more than friends."

"I know... But, you're only 21. You're not gonna stay stuck with my old ass just for the sake of it. I mean, we had made it pretty clear that this was just friends with benefits in here."

"You're not old, Mick. 26 is not old. And... I kinda love you," he mumbled the last part.

"You love me?" Mickey repeated, surprised.

"Yes. But not in the _'I wanna spend the rest of my life with you, 'til death do us apart'_ way. More like, you'll stay here forever," he said, moving Mickey's hand over his heart. "You mean so much to me and I don't ever wanna lose you. And if our ways got separated one day, I want you to know that you'll always be a part of me, whether you like it or not. I know I'm going all faggy on you right now, but Christ, this needed to get out."

"I love you too," Mickey said aloud after a minute staring blankly at the wall. He refocused his gaze on Jay, "I love you _that_ way too, Jay. But don't let this guy go because of us, okay?"

"Okay," Jay accepted, moving to lay closer to Mickey.

"I slept with someone else," Mickey found himself saying after a beat.

"What?!" Jay shot up.

"Don't worry, I used protection but -"

"I don't care about that. I trust you on this," Jay dismissed the information. "But who, when?!" he asked curiously.

"Before coming home?" he offered. "That's why I was late."

"Oh, okay," Jay said slowly. "Do I know him?" he tried again.

"Go to sleep, Jay," Mickey smiled.

Jay sighed, but laid back down. "Yes, _old man_."

"Hey, you said I was old!"

"Doesn't mean I can't tease you with this," Jay smirked at him before grabbing his hand for Mickey to be the big spoon.

 

* * *

 

Ian didn't know how to take it: Mickey running away like a shameful one night-stand. Shit, that's not what he wanted. He didn't particularly know what he wanted anymore, but _this_ , this wasn't it. For sure.

He'd hoped running his problems away would help him. It only made his muscles ache a bit more than usual. His head was filled with images of Mickey, over and over again.

Taking his shower back home, he couldn't stop himself from tracing the small scars Mickey had left on him in exchange of the ones probably covering Mickey's body right now.

It's in the stairs that a voice shook him up from his thoughts.

"And here he comes again," he heard. Turning around, he saw Jay, catching on the few steps separating them. Guilt filled Ian's mind as he saw the smile plastered on Jay's face. If only he knew...

"And here he is again," he said lamely, keeping on walking down, hoping to escape whatever conversation the other man may want to have. It didn't work, obviously.

"I didn't tell him, you know."

"Thanks?" Ian found himself saying. Wait? Mickey had spent the night with him, yet Jay was walking out of Mickey's building. "You two live together or something?"

"No, why?"

"Just wondering," Ian tried to dismiss him.

"Still, you got no chance. Me living up there or not, you're out of the way," Jay told him, his smile never faltering.

"Why? You two made it official overnight?" Ian snickered despite himself, his own jealousy taking control.

"No, I told you we're not together. Just telling you, he already has someone else apart from me," Jay said, keeping on walking down, while Ian had stopped short in his track.

"What?!"

 


	7. Shits and giggles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sincerely apologize for the delay, I know the last update dates back from November. I had a severe writer's block on this fic, added to the one-shots/chapters I wrote and my exams, it wasn't easy to actually focus on it.  
> With this chapter, the story is taking a new turn, and I hope it turns out alright and that the spirit remains. Let me know.  
> Hopefully, now that I am back on the tracks, I won't take two months before updating. Thanks for sticking by.
> 
> PS: The italic part is a flashback, just like in chapter one.

Ian tossed and turned in bed, he couldn't fall asleep. His mind was racing again. He grabbed his phone to see what time it was. 3:43 AM. He sighed and rolled toward the fresh part of the mattress. Maybe cooling his body would help him sleep. It didn't. It just made him aware of how sweaty he was. He sighed again and decided to walk around his apartment. His legs were twitching, he couldn't stay still.

The tiles against his bare feet seemed appeasing. He went to the fridge, downing a small bottle of water in one go. Everything was silent in his apartment, but it wasn't in the upstairs one. Despite himself, he listened carefully to the feet stomping on the floor above him, walking around to for a couple of minutes before stopping. He heard laughing too. And then, silence again.

He hesitated, but went back to bed at last. The mattress had had time to cool down, but there was still a wet patch from where he'd been lying. He knew it wasn't only his new medication that fucked him up like this. No. The man living upstairs was the other reason keeping him awake at night. He hadn't seen him for about a month now. The last he had seen of the man was him running away from his apartment after they had slept together. This wasn't an image he wanted to keep in his mind. What he wanted to remember was how good and natural it had felt to be with him.

After learning Mickey actually had a boyfriend, and not only his fuck buddy, Jay, he had done everything to avoid him. He knew he would cave in if Mickey initiated something, he was weak when it came to this. Forgiving and letting another person taking control of him, making him do things, being someone else, he knew how it felt. He knew what it felt to be a mistress, he didn't want to experience that ever again -- even if it meant being with someone he might have feelings for.

***

_"Shit, Ian," Tyler breathed, plopping back down on the bed, spent._

_"Yeah," Ian agreed, getting rid of the condom. He threw it in the nearby bin before joining him in bed. "Can I stay tonight?"_

_"Sure," the other man said, lighting a cigarette. He took a couple of puff before handing it to Ian's greedy hand. "Yoli should be back by tomorrow afternoon, though."_

_"Okay." Ian smoked almost the entire cigarette, Tyler could lit another one if he wanted to smoke that bad. "I don't understand you," he said after a moment._

_"What don't you understand?"_

_"Why you're pretending."_

_"I already told you, I can't be out," Tyler sighed, getting up to get his boxers back on._

_"But why? I mean, you're young and from the North side. Why do you pretend liking being with her when you get off with a dick up your ass?"_

_"You're too young to understand," the man breathed, not looking at Ian._

_"Too young? I'm what, eight years younger than you or something. Don't bullshit me on this. And it didn't stop you the first time, even though you knew I could call the cops on your ass since I'm underage," Ian retorted, the anger starting to build inside of him. It wasn't the first time a closeted and taken guy bullshitted him. Tyler and him had hit it off at a club in Boystown. The older man had taken Ian home -- or at least that was what Ian had thought the first time. He had learned afterward that this wasn't his actual home, only a small apartment he was renting that no one knew about -- especially not his girlfriend, Yoli._

_"You wouldn't do that," Tyler said, shaking his head._

_"No, I wouldn't do that, you're right. Still, I don't understand why you hide me like a dirty little secret when Yoli shows you off at parties and glows with happiness."_

_"She doesn't know," he muttered._

_"Yeah, I bet she doesn't know about her boyfriend being pounded hard in the ass weekly," the redhead spat. He got up to get dressed too. He couldn't stay here, knowing he was a mistress again. He didn't know this Yoli, but she obviously didn't deserve to be cheated on._

_"Shut up, Ian!" He almost shouted. "You, shut the fuck up. You don't know shit about me or her, alright so don't talk like you do."_

_"Oh, I know things," Ian said, buttoning his pants. "I know that, at this rate, you're gonna knock her up and pretend to have a happy marriage with a chick when in fact you're just a coward and a faggot," he told him, calmly. He was expecting the punch thrown in his direction, smartly grabbing the fist aimed toward him. He wrestled his way around, easily pushing Tyler on the bed, his dark skin contrasting with the white sheets. He grabbed a hold of both of the thick wrists, holding them above Tyler's head._

_"Don't leave like this," he said._

_"Again with the pleading?" Ian huffed, not moving from an inch._

_"It's not pleading, Ian. Come on, we've got a good thing here, right?"_

_"No, we don't," Ian told him. "We fucking don't." He threw his hands up in the air in annoyance. He sat up on Tyler's chest, looking at his surrounding. How did he always end up with guys lying to him?_

_When he wasn't looking, Tyler took this as his chance to reverse role. With a hand flat against Ian's back, he made them roll so that he was the one on top now. "You sure?" he muttered in Ian's ear, hands roaming on the bare white chest. "It's good, though," he kept on on a seductive tone. One of his hand wandered to stroke Ian's clothed ass. "It's really good," he said, kissing lightly down Ian's neck. He focused on sucking at his collarbone then. Ian couldn't take it anymore._

_"Shit," he moaned. He gave in, again. "Get this off," he ushered to say, trying to get rid of the clothes the other man had put back on. He knew he was making a mistake, he knew he shouldn't. With the grin Tyler held proudly on his face, he knew this was a mistake. He couldn't bring himself to stop it, though._

_***_

_Fate made the decision for him about three weeks after. Yoli had apparently found out about the secret apartment. It was Ian who had opened the door when someone had knocked on it. He was only wearing his boxers, hair disheveled from their first round of sex. She frowned when she saw him, not knowing who he was. He didn't know her neither, not having seen a picture of her. Still, her gaze shifted upward, behind him, and understanding drew on her face. Turning around, he could see Tyler sprawled on the couch, the angle of his bent knee being the only thing hiding his groin._

_***_

He startled awake, drenched in sweat. He turned off his alarm. Why did he dream about this again? Years after. Tyler hadn't been the first one making him a mistress. Still, he had thought he'd had feelings for him back then. But who was he kidding? He'd been a seventeen year old kid manipulated by a twenty-three year old man. That's what it was. The so-called feelings had never been reciprocal, he knew it. That night, Tyler had chosen to try to get back with Yoli. He hadn't cared about all Ian had had to suffer. All the insults he had heard about being a cheap fuck and a slut. He hadn't cared, so why Ian should?

He just wanted to take a cold shower, trying to wash the feelings away. He didn't want that to happen with Mickey. He didn't want to be put in the position of the mistress ever again.

He decided against the shower, only drying himself quickly with a towel before changing to his jogging outfit. Maybe running would help him escaping his own mind. Maybe pushing his body to its limits would help him forgetting about all this.

***

When he went to work afterwards that day, he saw him again. Not Mickey, Jay. He seemed ever so present at Mickey's place, as if he was living with him now. They didn't address each others, even though they ran into each others at least three times a week. Jay's words were too clear in his mind.

"You're out of the way," he had said. "He's got someone else now. Someone he cares about enough to tell me. Don't you dare fucking up things with him."

"Why would I fuck things with him?" Ian had retorted. "He's a big guy, he knows what he's doing." Images of the previous night had run through his head, his hands on Mickey, his mouth on his.

"Yeah, but I know guys like you. You're still going to hang around, prying like a vulture until he caves. Leave him live his life."

"You don't know me," Ian had only shot back before leaving. He had been late anyways.

He didn't understand why the younger man was still so present in Mickey's life, now that a boyfriend was in the picture. Maybe they were  _ that _ close.

***

The library was calmer now that every kids were back to school -- middle schooler, high schooler and college students. There still were groups now and then, taking the opportunity of a quiet library in the middle of the town to study. He found himself enjoying the months of September and October better, there really wasn't a lot of people around. He could do his job, and still have free time to read by himself in one of the comfy chair.

This morning, Ian found himself reading 'A Streetcar named Desire' again before his lunch break. It was easier to avoid people when he was engrossed in his reading.

"Hey," a soft voice startled him. He finished his line before memorizing his page. He looked up to see a familiar blond. "Alisha and I are going out for lunch. The Thaï place nearby. You wanna come?" His eyes were almost begging him to say yes.

"Thanks, but no thanks. I'm gonna finish this one first," he motioned for the book. "Plus, I got my own food."

"You sure?" Shawn sighed.

"Yeah, go ahead. Lydia is at the reception, right?"

"She is," the blond confirmed. He glanced behind himself. A couple of feet away, Alisha was leaning against the threshold of the section, waiting for them. For him. She mindlessly played with her black curly hair. Shawn knelt next to him to be at eye level. "You're okay, Ian?" he whispered even lower than before.

"Yeah, why?" Ian shrugged.

"We haven't  _ seen _ each others for a couple of weeks and you seem distant. I just want to know if everything is fine for you. For us," he tried to sound nonchalant. Ian could hear the worry in his voice. He hadn't gone to Shawn's place for months, and now it'd been weeks since the blond hadn't come to his own place.

"Everything's fine, man. Really," he told him, not wanting to worry him more than he already did.

"Fine," Shawn agreed, clearly not believing Ian entirely. Still, he left Ian alone and joined their colleague. He could feel Alisha's eyes on him as they left. He brushed the feeling off, not wanting to care about what they thought about him.

***

He was actually allowed to come home earlier that day. Lydia, his forty-year old colleague that had taken a liking in every of her younger co-workers, had told him he could leave sooner since the library was mostly empty.

That was what Tuesdays looked like at the library. He used to mind, but today, he was glad to come home. He knew the loneliness would drag and follow him home. At least, there, he didn't have to deal with Shawn's worried glances toward him every so often.

He thanked her, and went to grab his thin jacket from the employee room. Obviously, Shawn was there. The blond didn't say a thing, though.

***

His walk home was actually pleasant, smoking his thoughts away. He didn't mind the crowded streets of Chicago sometimes. He got into his building just as the elevator doors were about to close. He quickly walked to it, telling himself that if he reached them before they closed he would enter it. Otherwise, he would check his mails while waiting for it to come back down.

When the doors reopened in front of him thanks to his hand blocking the way, he wished he'd gone check his mails. Mickey was standing inside the elevator, a tall brunet man next to him.

"Oh," he let out without meaning to. "Hi," he said politely. He entered it and pushed the button of the 6th floor, eyes locked with the orange light glowing behind the 6 and 7 shapes.

"Hi," Mickey mirrored. He seemed less uncomfortable than Ian though. "How is it going?"

"Fine," Ian replied too quickly for it to be believable. "Fine," he repeated, trying to convince himself. "You?"

"Good," Mickey nodded. The man between them studying them suspiciously. He was slightly taller than Ian, dark hair and dark eyes. A stubble was taking over his cheeks and chin, in the _'I'm too lazy to shave'_ way, not the _'I'm trying to look cool'_ way. He was wearing a dark red polo t-shirt with dark blue jeans. He was kind of good looking. Just like Jay was kind of good looking. Mickey clearly had a type, Ian told himself.

The silence was awkward between them. Ian almost let out a sigh of relief when the elevator beeped and opened its doors at the sixth floor.

"That's me," he said, lamely. "See you around," he added before leaving them. He walked straight ahead to his apartment, not looking behind him.

That night, he knew it was creepy to listen if he could hear noises upstairs. After a silence of half an hour, he decided to go to sleep. He needed it.

***

It was another week before he confronted the other man again. Tuesdays were his slow day, and apparently Mickey's  _ weird schedule _ day. This time, he was alone in the elevator, though. And it had been the other way around -- Ian being the first entering it.

Mickey smiled at him when he saw him. When Mickey had pushed the 7th floor button and that the doors closed, a beat passed. Then, Ian was pushed against a side of the room. Lips attacked his owns fiercely. Hands were on him as a tongue chanced its way in his mouth. He slightly moaned at the contact and when he realized Mickey was kissing him, out of the blue. Then, his brain cells connected: Mickey was kissing him. He collected himself and pushed him away harshly. The other man stumbled toward the other end of the elevator, frowning at the rejection.

"I don't want to be a mistress," Ian told him frankly.

"What?"

"I don't want to be the guy you cheat on with. You clearly have a type and all. I'm not that. I'm - Fuck, I'm just trouble, man. You're trouble. Okay?"

Mickey looked at him dumbfounded, not knowing what the hell he was talking about. The elevator beeped and open its doors. Ian glanced at him once more before walking out and away from him.

Walking there, he could feel the taste of Mickey's mouth on his lips. It was addictive.

***

The next evening, Debbie was coming by for dinner again. Ian looked forward to see his little sister. He had missed her, but he knew she was busy with college and her work at a diner near the Gallagher house, so he didn't push her.

He wasn't close to people, usually. Except for Debbie and Shawn. Since he was kind of distant to the other man nowadays, he was happy for Debbie to come.

"So Fiona threw a fit at the school. I mean, she didn't seem to realize it wasn't helping to act like this with them. If they decide Liam should move class, then he should. That's all. That's better for him anyways." She was leaning against the counter, a beer in hand as she recounted him the tales of the South side life with the Gallaghers. Liam was already twelve years old, and its middle school had decided to open classes for children with difficulties -- something that would have been helpful at Carl's time. Apparently, a couple of his teachers had hinted that Liam should be transferred to this class for his own good but Fiona had taken it as an insult and a criticism on how she'd raised him.

"What about Liam, though? Does he want to be transferred?" Ian asked, keeping on preparing the mac'n'cheese he had wanted to do for tonight.

"He's not stupid, just a slower learner," Debbie said, nursing her beer. "I think he wants to go 'cause it would be better for him. He knows that. But at the same time, he doesn't want to contradict her."

"Did you tell him he can go against Fiona? She's not our mother, Debs."

"I know," she sighed. "But she's the one who raised us on her own, give her some credit."

"I know. That doesn't mean she's right on every subject, though," he retorted. Debbie fell silent. She knew he was right, but she also saw that the despise he held toward her was biasing his opinion on the matter. Her mouth twitched, not knowing what to say. "It's not your fault, Debs," he said soothingly. "Pass me the potholders, please?"

She opened the drawer behind her, knowing Ian's kitchen maybe better than himself. She frowned, though, when she didn't see what she was looking for. "Not there," she said.

"Oh," he replied thoughtfully. "Try the cupboard below. I might have mixed things."

She found them inside the cupboard, just like he'd said. She found something else too among the kitchen supplies. "What's that?" she asked, handing him the potholders with one hand and her discovery in the other.

"What's what, Debs?" he said, before turning around. He mindlessly grabbed the required items to put his dish in the oven when he spotted what she was holding. "Shit, Debbie! Gimme that," he quickly grabbed the butt plug from her hand.

He almost ran to his bedroom to hide the sex toy away from her.

"Was that a toy, Ian?" she shouted. Ian could hear the grin in her voice.

"Shut up," he retorted as loudly. He clearly heard her laughing this time. Reentering his kitchen, he saw she had taken care of the food.

"Has it ever been used?" she asked, teasing him. The blush didn't leave Ian's face.

"Guess," he told her, stealing a gulp from her beer.

"Gross," she concluded, going for the sink to wash her hands.

"It was clean, Debs."

"Maybe, but it went up someone's ass at some point. I need to wash that away from me."

***

In the middle of the meal, Ian caved.

"You remember that neighbor I told you about?" he tried to approach the subject casually, but failed miserably.

"The one you stalked?" she asked, a knowing smile on her face.

"I wasn't stalking him," he said.

"Ian, dear brother. Even if I didn't know about your stalkerish tendencies, seeing you at the window of a 6th floor apartment to catch a glimpse of the guy is kind of a give away."

"You're done making fun of me?" he replied sternly.

"I'm not making fun of you, but go on."

"Basically, we sort of flirted over a month ago, teasing and all. We slept together at some point, but the next day, one of his friend told me he had a boyfriend. So I backed off, obviously. Yesterday, we were in the elevator, only the two of us and he kissed me. Out of the blue. Just, simply jumped me like this." He intentionally skipped the details of how the said friend was actually Mickey's fuck buddy or that the teasing was in fact getting off listening to him getting fucked.

"And so what, you're head over heels over him?" she asked.

He toyed with his food a bit before admitting it. "I'm head over heels."

Debbie was clearly worried about him, not being used to her brother acting this way. Ian had always appeared detached to the people he was with -- even when he cared too much about them. It wasn't normal to see him displaying his emotions like this.

"I mean, like I told him, I don't want to be a mistress. I don't want to be the guy that makes him cheat on his boyfriend. I want him to be happy, even though I don't really know him. I want to know him."

"But you slept together," she pointed out.

"I know, I'm a slut," he huffed.

"No, Ian. That wasn't my point, here," she said softly. "How did that happen, huh? He clearly wants something from you if you two have sex and then he kisses you like this."

"Maybe that's just what he wants. _Sex_ ," Ian deadpanned.

"I think that if that was it, he would have found someone else to fill the void during this past month, Ian."

***

"And then, Anya tried to kiss Elliott," she finished her story. They had moved from the table to the couch, eating cookie dough ice cream from the container in front of a movie they were barely watching.

"Elliott, as in _your_ Elliott?"

"We're not together anymore," she told him before taking a spoonful of sweetness.

"Oh, shit. Sorry," he told her sincerely.

"Sorry for him, you mean. I learned he cheated on me at some point. He held a black eye for a good ten days, I'd say," she said proudly.

"Why are you defending him here, then?"

"I'm not defending him. I'm accusing Anya. The bitch is dating Zoey and just like that, she decides she's not that gay anymore. She's only fucking up with my friend and I don't like Zoey being played with."

"Damn," he muttered. "I didn't know college could be as childish."

"Yeah, because you were off to some 'stans somewhere in your twenties," she retorted jokingly. When she saw the change of emotion of his face, she immediately caught up. "Sorry, bad subject. Ignore me."

"It's fine, don't worry," he said apologetically. He didn't want her to feel guilty, this wasn't her fault in the end.

They refocused on the movie, which was crappier than they'd thought when they'd turned on the TV earlier.

"You think I should go see him?" he muttered about fifteen minutes later.

"See who where?" she asked absentmindedly, not detaching her eyes from the screen.

"Mickey, the neighbor. At his work place," he supplied.

"At his work?" she repeated, looking at him this time.

"Yeah, he works at a bar no that far from here."

"And how do you know that?"

"I have my sources," he shrugged. By sources, he meant having overheard Jay on the phone one morning and saying so. "I know he's in a relationship, but still. Should I go see him?"

"If it makes you stop acting that weird, sure," she mumbled.

"Seriously, Debbie," he sighed. He shifted from his end of the couch to face her properly.

"Okay, seriously? Go see him. In a crowded place so that he doesn't jump you," he didn't laugh, but she did. "Okay," she repeated, seeing how serious he actually was. "Sure, go see him. Ask him for an explanation for his behavior and maybe you two could hit it off as friends, no? It could be good for you to have someone other than me."

"And Shawn," he provided.

"You've been avoiding his texts for the past hour, Ian. I'm not gonna ask why, I think I get it. But back to this Mickey guy. If you think it will settle things, sure, go see him."

"Okay," he nodded to himself. Putting the ice cream container on the coffee table, Debbie got up and went to his room. "What are you doing?" he asked loudly instead of following her.

"You'll be wearing this," she said, holding a plain white t-shirt. It was slightly too small for him, he always wore a jacket with it with hide that flaw. "You wear the hell out of this t-shirt, Ian. He'll know what he's missing out."

"If you want," he smiled, shaking his head. She put the shirt on the back of a chair before joining him again.

"Promise me one thing, though."

"What?"

"To not sleep with him. Promise me that you won't give in and have sex with this guy knowing he's taken."

"I promise you," he vowed.

"Good," she nodded. "I think I should go," he said thoughtfully, watching the credits rolling on the TV screen.

"Already?" he asked. He didn't want to be alone. It felt good to be with her

"Yeah, got class tomorrow morning and it's already over 11, Ian." She approached him, kissing the top of his head. "See you soon, huh? And keep me updated with this guy."

"Sure will do," he agreed, getting up. She gathered her belongings before going for the door. "Don't want me to walk you to the station?"

"It's me you're talking to, Ian," she easily smiled at him. "I've been carrying a shiv in my pocket for the past eight years and I just got a hold of a pepper spray. I think I'll be okay."

"Fine," he reluctantly but easily agreed. "Text me when you're home, though."

"Yes, big brother," she cheered in the hallway of the building, making her way to the elevator.

"Love you."

"Love you too, Ian," she said sincerely. Ian's heart warmed at her words. She wasn't the kind to say these words back, often settling for a  _ 'me too' _ when she really cared for someone. He felt special knowing she was herself when she was with him, and also knowing he was himself in her presence.

Maybe this was a redhead bound or something.

***

The next day, he stood in front of his bathroom mirror, telling himself he could do it. He couldn't. He turned on the TV instead and tried brain washing his mind with game shows.

Thursday was roughly the same. He had brought back the Dracula original story book home and spent hours reading it, forgetting himself in it.

On Friday, though, he shook himself up and gave himself a pep talk in front of the mirror. He encouraged himself, saying it wasn't like things would happen between them and that maybe Mickey didn't even work at this bar anyways.

He took a quick shower to erase the scent of the day and put on the white t-shirt. He threw on a black jacket too before heading out.

On his way there, Ian tried to think of any reason why someone would call their bar _Icarus._ He couldn't find a single one. He finished his cigarette, looking at the front of the bar. It wasn't much from the outside, the letters _ICARUS_ glowing in a bright orange above the door with small wings on each side of the name.

He finally gathered the courage to enter it after a couple of minutes fidgeting by the entrance, smoke burnt out. He was surprised to see it way bigger than what he'd thought. The place was decorated with dark wood and a faded yellow paint. There was the bar on one side and booths on the other. A couple of tables stood in-between. On his left, people were focused on their game of pool, beer bottles along the edge of the table. He made his way to the bar, finding a stool on its far end. Sitting there, he discovered a bigger area where people where dancing to the music. This wasn't just a bar, okay, dully noted.

It was crowded, more than he'd thought. But who was he kidding, it was a Friday night. People were enjoying the fact they were on weekend.

Looking around, he saw Mickey serving drinks only feet away from him. He waited for him to see him. When he did, Mickey frowned a little, then tilted his head. He glanced toward a group of people Ian couldn't be bothered to focus his attention on before walking to him.

If Mickey was surprised to see him here, he didn't say a thing about it.

"What do you want?" he asked him, tone neutral.

"Beer, please? As light as possible." Mickey squinted his eyes at him but did go to grab him a beer. Ian knew better than drinking too much with his meds, especially while still adjusting to these changes he'd made.

Once he gave him his drink, Mickey went back to work -- spending his time with Jay, the man he recognized from the elevator and a woman with dark long hair when he wasn't needed. They were glancing at Ian's direction from time to time, Mickey never really settling his gaze on him.

When he finished his beer, Mickey came back to him with two more. He rounded the bar and settled on the stool next to Ian.

"What are you doing?" Ian asked him, turning his stool to face him.

"10:15 PM, this is my break. Fifteen minutes until I need to go back behind the bar," he explained.

"And you're coming to spend it with me?"

"You want me to go?"

"No, I actually came here for you," Ian found himself saying.

"That's what I thought," Mickey smiled, drinking from his beer bottle.

"So," Ian hesitated. He remembered Debbie's words. Befriend him. "What's his name?" he asked, looking back to Mickey's friends.

"Who's name?"

"Your boyfriend's," Ian provided.

"Ah, hm, see. The thing is, I don't really have one. Maybe the phone sex made you think a guy was in the picture, but there isn't. Though, your issy fit in the elevator about not wanting to be a mistress and all, nice," he smiled, drinking again.

"Jay -" _Shit._ He cut himself off, knowing his mistake. He shouldn't know who Jay was.

"Jay? You know Jay?" he asked, looking at the said person for a second before resettling his gaze on Ian.

"I kinda met him a couple of times," Ian admitted.

"Oh, he didn't tell me," Mickey said.

"Yeah, I know. Though, he told me you had a boyfriend. That, there's already a guy in the picture apart from him. I know it was him, you know, on the phone."

"Woah, you know more than I thought," Mickey laughed. It was a good laugh to hear. "But, has it crossed your mind that the other guy in the picture might be you?"

"Me?"

"Yeah. I kinda told him when we slept together and ever since, he thinks I'm dating the said guy even though I never really saw this guy ever again. But I think you know that part, right?"

"Yeah, I do," Ian smiled timidly. "Who was the other guy then?"

"I hang out with a lot of guy, Gallagher. Should be clearer."

"The one with Jay there," he said pointing at their direction. "I thought you two were together."

"Jeremy? No way, he's my sister's boyfriend. Definitely not tapping that," he laughed out loud, the thought of sleeping with this Jeremy apparently hilarious. "Don't tell them about Jay, though. They don't know he is, you know, and that we, well."

"Not my story to tell," Ian put his hands up in mock surrender.

"Right," he agreed, finishing his beer. "I should probably go see them, you know? Since they came here just for me. Like you, in fact."

"Sure," Ian said.

"It was nice to, hm, settle things, you know?" Mickey told him, rounding the bar again to go back to work.

"Yeah, nice," Ian repeated when he walked away. "Hey, Mickey," he stopped him.

"Yeah?"

"I'm gonna put the sound of the alarm lower," he told him. Mickey made a face for a few second, then connected the dots.

"Thanks," he smiled honestly at him, standing still for a moment before resuming his task.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, and, big thanks to [Catherine](http://bellafarella.tumblr.com/) and [](http://xthatsclaudia.tumblr.com/>Claudia</a>%20for%20their%20support%20while%20writing%20this%20chapter.%20%20\(or%20not%20being%20able%20to%20write%20it\))


	8. Icarus.

"You know that there's this guy checking you out right there, huh, Mick?" Mandy asked with a smirk.

" _ This guy _ ?" he replied. Three pairs of eyes were focused on someone behind him, so he glanced back. He frowned seeing Ian despite the darkness of the room and how crowded it was. He tilted his head with confusion. What was Ian doing here? "Ah, hm, no. He's just my neighbor," he said, looking down bashfully. "Downstairs neighbor, actually." His eyes wandered meaningfully to Jay, letting him know who Ian actually was. "Probably wants a drink," he mumbled before making his way to the redhead awaiting for him. 

He tried to keep his surprise to himself, dissimulating the emotions. He asked him what he wanted to drink.  _ Beer, as light as possible _ . He didn't make a comment about the lightness of the wanted drink. Ian probably had his reasons for not drinking much. It was none of his business, he told himself as he uncapped the beer bottle and settled it in front of him with a mumbled ' _ here _ '. 

He went back to work right after, trying to collect himself. He'd been sure Ian had been avoiding him since he had taken off of his apartment like an awkward one nightstand realizing what he'd just done the morning after they'd slept together. He never saw the redhead around much -- except for these two times the past two weeks. The need had been growing during that time, and the constricted space of the elevator making things lustful, he hadn't managed to _not_ jump on Ian. He wasn't one to act like this usually, that was why facing Ian like this made him a little fuzzy inside. He didn't know what to do, but it was probably his turn to make the next move. First move: him kissing Ian. Second move: Ian showing up at Icarus alone while Mickey was working -- and the Milkovich man had never seen him here before.

He served the people asking for their drinks, not many cocktails -- fortunately for him, he hated doing them. He then went back to his little group of  _ friends. _ Apparently, Mandy was engrossed in a story and the men at each of her sides were listening to her carefully. Jeremy had stars in his eyes, head plopped on his hand, his elbow settled on the wooden counter.

She became silent as he approached her.

"What were you talking about?" he asked, suspicious.

"Oh, nothing important," she brushed him off with an ease she'd mastered years ago. He would know at some point if it was important. "The redhead is kinda hot, don't you think?" she told him before taking a sip from her  _ Sex on the beach _ \-- she had only ordered it to piss Mickey off, it was too fruity for her liking. He couldn't deny that Ian looked hot tonight. He was wearing a too tight white t-shirt, but it looked so good on him. He may have imagined him drenched in sweat after his morning jogging, wearing this and seeing even more of Ian's body throughout the wet fabric. "You should definitely tap that ass. Well, if there wasn't Mystery Man already, of course." _ He should. _

Jeremy smiled proudly, looking at Mickey for any reaction that might clue them for his identity.

"Shut up," he said. "And, how could you know if he was gay anyway. Your gaydar isn't particularly on point." He pointed at the couple with both his index and middle finger. Jay laughed lightly at his, hiding his laughter in his pint.

Mickey playfully shoved his shoulder, and Jay hit him back, smiling.

"Anyways, he's the one that pissed me off with his alarm, remember?" he said.

"Oh, that's him? I won't mind him keeping me awake at night," Mandy wiggled her eyebrow. Jay and Mickey couldn't contain their laughter this time. Their eyes connected, saying so much more than what they could actually say out loud right now. They knew innuendos could be understood with Mandy and Jeremy around, they were careful using them. Being close and nonchalant in front of other people, though, Mickey had craved for it. Along the past month, they had shared plenty of time together. The younger man had his sort of fling going on with a guy at work, so they weren't sleeping together anymore. That didn't mean they weren't as close as before.

The couple had seen them a bunch of time acting like this, they didn't think much of it. They just thought their respective brothers had hit it off  _ thanks to them _ , a growing friendship starting  _ thanks to them _ . 

"Anyway," Mandy forgot about the Ian subject quickly when no one commented about it for few minutes. "Why isn't there a girl attached to your arm, already?" she asked Jay. The younger man instantly blushed, not used to the attention.

"I hm -"

"Mandy, that's none of your business," Mickey intervened, seeing how uncomfortable he was.

"Oh, sorry," she said as if it was a sore subject. She obviously saw the face her brother-in-law was making. "I mean, even with work and college, I'm sure you have enough spare time to get some, right?"

"Can we not talk about this?" he pleaded her.

"Yeah, sure. Subject dropped. Let's go back to what I was saying before." And with that, she was off again. The three men listened to her as she ranted about girls and jerks at work. They glanced from time to time at Ian, feeling his eyes on them. Jeremy made a comment again, but Mickey couldn't keep his eyes on the redhead properly.

***

Mickey couldn't stop eyeing his watch. He would have his break at 10:15 PM and he intended to spend it with Ian. He had decided that in the middle of one of Mandy's rant about her work. He liked his sister, but mind him, he wasn't interested in what she was saying every time. The Asher brothers, though, seemed to enjoy it and even made fun of her from time to time.

He glanced at Ian every so often, trying to be subtle doing it. Jay caught him a couple of times, frowning slightly and silently asking what was up. Mickey only gave him shy small smiles every time.

His watch clocked 10:14 PM right as the redhead finished his beer bottle. Mickey breathed in deeply, trying to collect himself. He told his co-worker that he was taking his break. He grabbed a couple of beers, a light one for Ian and a strong one for himself.

He rounded the bar, intently not looking at him as he settled on the stool next to him. He put the beers on the counter, and pushed one in front of the redhead.

"What are you doing?" Ian asked him, turning his stool to face him.

"10:15 PM, this is my break," he said as casually as possible -- as if he wasn't sacrificing his break time, aka smoke time, to spend it with him. "Fifteen minutes until I need to go back behind the counter."

"And you're coming to spend it with me?" The surprise was clear on Ian's face, it looked good on him.

"You want me to go?" Mickey felt like asking. Maybe Ian hadn't come to see him. Maybe, it had been a pure coincidence for Ian to come have a drink at Icarus.

"No, I actually came here for you." Ian genuinely smiled at him, taking a sip from his drink.

"That's what I thought," Mickey licked his lips before bringing the beer bottle to them.

"So," Ian seemed hesitant, almost nervous. It was sweet to see him like this. It reminded him of the Ian he had met by the mail boxes all these weeks ago, not the one annoying him with a stupid alarm. "What's his name?" he asked, looking back to the Asher brothers and Mandy.

"Who's name?" Mickey asked, unsure of who he was talking about. He could have been eyeing either Jay or Jeremy. But why would he ask only the name of a single person among the group?

"Your boyfriend's."

"Ah, hm, see. The thing is, I don't really have one," Mickey explained. He squirmed on his stool, and now he understood why Ian had pushed him away in the elevator a couple of days ago with his rant about not wanting to be a mistress. "Maybe the phone sex made you think a guy was in the picture, but there isn't. Though, your issy fit in the elevator about not wanting to be a mistress and all, nice," he smiled despite himself, drinking again. He hadn't known back then why Ian had acted this way, but it was nice to have a guy being so against the idea of cheating.

"Jay -" Ian stopped himself right away, but Mickey heard the name. Jay? How could he know him? His gaze moved from the redhead's freckled face to the eyes which were watching him intently.

"Jay? You know Jay?" he asked, still not looking at him. When Jay's eyes shifted back to Mandy, he did the same with Ian.

"I kinda met him a couple of times."

"Oh, he didn't tell me." Mickey didn't know what to think about it, Jay almost told him everything. Though, he didn't have to.

"Yeah, I know. Though, he told me you had a boyfriend. That, there's already a guy in the picture apart from him." _Fuck._ "I know it was him, you know, on the phone," he added, awkwardly.

"Woah, you know more than I thought," Mickey laughed. It was easier to laugh than to ask himself so many questions about Jay or Ian's behaviors toward all this. "But, has it crossed your mind that the other guy in the picture might be you?"

"Me?" Ian's eyebrows shot up, clearly not having expected this.

Mickey sighed, but told himself ' _fuck it_ '. "Yeah. I kinda told him when we slept together and ever since, he thinks I'm dating the said guy even though I never really saw this guy ever again. But I think you know that part, right?" He tilted his head toward the end of his sentence.

"Yeah, I do," Ian smiled timidly. The head tilting always worked. "Who was the other guy then?" he asked lowly, as if he wasn't supposed to.

"I hang out with a lot of guy, Gallagher. Should be clearer," he told him. He guessed Ian was talking about Jeremy, but still, he wanted Ian to try more.

"The one with Jay there," he said, looking back and pointing at Jeremy. "I thought you two were together," he admitted.

"Jeremy?" Mickey almost spat his beer. The thought of sleeping with Jeremy had never crossed his mind for one second. He was good looking, yes, and him and Jay looked really alike. Jeremy was Mandy's territory, he couldn't remotely think about him as more than his brother-in-law or friend. "No way, he's my sister's boyfriend. Definitely not tapping that. Don't tell them about Jay, though. They don't know he is, you know, and that we, well," he motioned around with his hand. He preferred being careful in case Ian hung around and that he made a comment about them.

"Not my story to tell," he put his hands up in mock surrender. How could he look even more adorable?

"Right," he agreed, finishing his beer. "I should probably go see them, you know? Since they came here just for me. Like you, in fact," he cocked his head on the side, waiting for Ian to say something to correct him. He didn't.

"Sure," was Ian's response instead.

"It was nice to, hm, settle things, you know?" He kept on, rounding the counter and grabbing his empty bottle. He eyed Ian's, but it was still mostly full.

"Yeah, nice," he heard him mumble as he walked away. "Hey, Mickey." He stopped dead in his track, a smile spreading on his face. He quickly erased it before turning around.

"Yeah?" he said as casually as possible.

"I'm gonna put the sound of the alarm lower." Ian was so serious, all of a sudden. It took him off guard, making him silent for a couple of seconds before really getting what Ian was saying. That's all it took, then, being nice to each others?

"Thanks," he smiled honestly at him, standing still for a moment before resuming his task. His mind was racing, maybe there was a hidden meaning in this?

***

"Since when do you take your break inside the bar and not outside to smoke a cigarette or two?" Mandy asked, grinning around the straw of her drink. She struggled to finish it apparently, too bad for her. She wouldn't ask for this next time and actually settle for a simple drink.

"I needed to talk to him," he shrugged, taking Jeremy's glass to refill it with whiskey.

"Thanks," he said. "But, didn't you say he was your neighbor? Can't you see him back home?"

"Yeah, Mickey," Mandy insisted, "can't you see him back home?" she repeated, tilting her head, her grin turning evil. He silently asked Jay for help, but the man's face stayed still, waiting.

"I kinda like the guy, okay?" he admitted, a bit frustrated. He bit his lip and busied himself by grabbing Jay's glass to give him a refill too.

"Oh, no," Jeremy said lowly. It made him look up at him. "Mickey, seriously?" he asked him incredulously. "You already slept with him, didn't you?" Understanding drew on Mandy's face too. How these two managed to read him like this, he would never know.

"I did," he lowly admitted, not daring to look at Jay. He heard shuffle around, and within a couple of seconds, Jay was standing up, throwing his jacket on. "Jay -"

"I just remembered I got work early tomorrow. I probably should go," he rushed to say, hurt in his eyes as he watched Mickey.

"Finish your drink with us at least," Mickey tried to not beg, but even to his own ear he could hear how desperate he was for Jay to stay.

"It's cool," he said, putting bills on the counter. "I'll see you, guys," he quickly said before leaving.

"Shit," Mickey muttered as the door closed, Jay disappearing in the Chicago night. He fucked up.

"What was that about?" Mandy asked.

"Nothing," Mickey shook his head dismissively. "Take his drink if you want," he told her. "I'll throw this one down the sink."

"Thank God," she sighed, pushing her glass toward him and taking a big gulp of Jay's whiskey and coke. 

"You can call me Mickey or even Mick too, you know," he joked to ease the atmosphere. He saw a flash of red hair passing behind them, then out of the door too. He walked up to Ian's spot, empty bottle with a couple of bills stashed underneath -- way more than what his drinks had cost. He pocketed the surplus, smiling to himself.

"So, Mick," Mandy tried to reengage the conversation.

"What?"

"You and Jay have been close lately, right? I mean, the playfully shoving each others around and having inside jokes."

"So?" He knew he was on the defensive, but he tried to control himself as much as possible.

"Do you think Nicole is his type? I mean, she's everyone's type, but I feel bad for him. There's no one around for him. He's got us and his acquaintances at college or work. That's all."

"I only got you and my acquaintances at work too. You only got us and your acquaintances at work as well. Same goes for Jeremy. Why are you asking this?"

"I'm asking this 'cause you got your Mystery Man and fuck buddies and apparently your neighbor too. Jeremy and I got each others. I do feel bad for Jay, I just want him to be happy and I think Nicole would be a good kind of girl for him, that's all."

"I don't know, Mandy," he sighed, wiping the wooden counter mindlessly with a rag.

"I don't think that would work neither," Jeremy added, eyes fixed on the inside of his drink, nursing the dark liquor.

"Why?" she asked him, refocusing her attention on him instead of Mickey.

"I wouldn't be surprised if he were gay," he deadpanned. Mickey's eyes wide, but he quickly collected himself. "No offense, Mickey, really. But like, even back to middle school or high school, I've never seen him with a girl or even remotely attracted to one. He never brought anyone home, never mentioned a special someone. And he's twenty one. I mean, it's either that or he's not interested in sex at all. But really scratch that, I think catching him jerking off a couple of years ago marked me for life."

"So, you think your brother's gay and closeted?"

"I just say it wouldn't surprise me if he was," he shrugged. "Did he tell you something? Or have you noticed anything? I don't want to control him or anything, but he's my little brother. I want him to be happy or some shit."

"I-I don't know," he stammered, going back to work. He was glad people were actually waiting for drinks. Otherwise, he would have crashed his cover of ' _ sorry work needs me _ '.

He intended to avoid them for the rest of their time here. Fortunately for him, they didn't stay long after that, finishing their drinks quietly and waving at him to signal they were going back home.

He let out a huge sigh of relief when they left. He almost fucked up again. He couldn't out Jay to his brother, even though he was suspicious of it. Like Ian had said, it wasn't his story to tell, it wasn't Mickey's neither. 

He couldn't count the number of time he checked his phone for a text from Jay. Nothing ever appeared, though.

On his way home, even though it was over 3 AM, he dialed Jay's number. He hoped the other man would pick up. Unfortunately for him, he didn't.

"Hey, Jay. I guess you're sleeping? Anyway, I hope you are. I just want you to give me a chance to explain you everything. This is not what you think, okay? Please, don't start ignoring me, man. Call me. Or I'll call you, I don't know. But please, let me explain," he knew he was begging, but fuck if he cared. He didn't want to lose Jay like this. He'd been glad that switching back to best friends and not fuck buddies anymore had gone good. Nothing had changed between them, except the sex.

He hoped nothing more would change.

***

He went to bed with his mind filled by Ian and Jay. He didn't know what to do anymore. He didn't want to lose Jay, but at the same time, he did like Ian. He wouldn't mind if things evolved behind them. Maybe starting over or some shit, that's what people did right? When things get fucked up from the start, they start over. 

He found sleep with difficulty, but did fall asleep at last. He'd been used to sleeping with someone next to him at least a couple of times a week, now his bed felt cold and empty.  _ Fuck. _

_ *** _

5:30 AM. His brain must have been used to be woken up that early since he was awake as soon as the alarm downstairs got off. The sound was way lower than before, he had to admit it. Though, it lasted longer. Maybe Ian had some difficulties to wake up with a sound that low compared to what he was used to. He rolled in bed, smiling to himself again. He grabbed his phone, blinding himself as he unlocked it. He spent a too long amount of time looking for Ian's number among his history call and text. When he did, he quickly typed _ 'Thank you for the alarm thing again' _ then closed his eyes again.

***

He reopened his eyes at around 10 o'clock, content to have slept more for once. His first thought was to check his phone again to see if Jay had texted him. Nothing from him. There was a ' _ No problems :) _ ' from Ian that he had received only a couple of minutes after having sent his own text.

He tried to listen closely to the sounds above him, but the upstairs apartment was apparently empty. Or really silent.

***

Considering what time it'd been when he actually got up, he'd decided to go check on Jay in the afternoon. He knew the man was working all day at the supermarket, so he took a good shower before fixing himself lunch.

He roamed around the store twice before giving in and asked one of the employee if they knew where Jay Asher was. The girl eyed him up and down, not hiding the fact that she was enjoying the view with the way she was biting down her pink lip.

"He's supposed to be restocking the female hygiene section right now. Two aisles down," she told him.

"Thanks," he muttered, hoping to get away from her as soon as humanly possible.

He was lucky she didn't insist more. He'd met girls and women very persistent throughout his life and it always ended the same way: him, outing himself out of frustration and embarrassing the person in front of him because they were barking at the wrong tree.

He found him easily, restocking pads as if it was the most boring thing ever. It probably was. He cleared his throat loudly when he reached him, startling him.

"Oh, hey," he said shyly, refocusing on doing his work. No one else was in this aisle despite it being in the middle of a Saturday afternoon.

"You got my message?" he asked bluntly.

"I did," Jay replied, not looking at him one second.

"And you didn't call back or text," he said, trying to make him talk.

"No, I didn't."

"Hey," he said louder, grabbing both of his biceps. "Don't shut me off like this, okay? Talk to me. I didn't do anything wrong."

"Oh, you didn't do anything wrong?"

Mickey looked around again, but decided to talk lower nonetheless. He didn't want people eavesdropping their conversation. "We had agreed from the start that whatever relationship we had wouldn't be a romantic one. Meaning, if one wanted to fuck around, he could. Only rule: condom. You were fine with that. And I followed the rule. And now you've got your fling with another guy, but you're pissed at me because I slept with Ian and didn't tell you it was him?"

"I knew what our relationship was, Mickey. Don't worry about that. Just, why did you hide me you were sleeping with this asshole? And you called him that too, by the way."

"Slept. I slept with him. Once. Nothing more happened between us," he said, avoiding telling him about the kiss. "I didn't mean to hide it from you, but you only knew him as the asshole from downstairs! How could I tell you, _ 'oh, I had sex with the fucker from downstairs' _ ? I just couldn't."

"Why did you then?"

"Did what?"

"Sleep with him. That's all he ever wanted. Playing this little game to tease you, just to have you in his bed in the end. That's all he wants, Mickey."

"He's not like that."

"Because you know him now, Mick? I knew who he was, and he told me to keep his identity secret. To not tell you he was the one pissing you off because apparently you two knew each others."

"We didn't, really. I mean, I've always found him hot and all. And he helped me a couple of times, being nice to me and all. He's nice."

"You really like him, huh?" Jay said, poorly controlling his disdain.

"I do. And you have no right to be jealous when you've got your thing going on with Rami. Maybe you'll like him in the end, once you'll get to know him."

"I'm not jealous."

"Then what is this? Why are we arguing about a guy I like?"

"I'm being protective, that's fucking all, Mickey. I told you I cared about you and that I kind of love you. Don't you get that I want the best for you, not some freaking idiot with a loud alarm?"

"Maybe he's good enough for me," he told him. "I don't deserve much, Jay. I know I'm a fucked-up -"

"Oh, come on with the pity party already, Mickey. You can have anyone you want, man."

"I don't want everyone."

"So, you want him then?"

"I think, yeah."

"That's a fucked up start for a relationship, I'm telling you."

"That's what I was thinking. But I think I got an idea."

"Does that involve you acting like a slut again?" Jay teased him easily.

"I don't act like a slut," Mickey faked horror.

"Yes, you do. Mickey Milkovich is a slut!"

"Shut up, already," he laughed. "And since I got you and you're actually listening for once -"

"Hey, I always listen!"

"No, you're a stubborn fucker."

"Anyways, shoot."

"You should talk to your brother."

"Why's that?"

"Well maybe because you took off rather suspiciously last night? Or because he thinks you're gay and hiding it away from him. I'd go for the second idea if I were you."

"He told you so?"

"Yeah, and he's kind of hurt that you're not talking to him about this. I know you told me that your family wasn't like how Mandy and me are and all. But I think your brother deserves to know. Not about us, obviously."

"I'll think about it," he said.

"Tell me if you need help or anything, right?" Jay only nodded. "Oh, look who's coming," he nudged at his shoulder to make him look at the same direction as him. He easily spotted the olive skin, dark hair and hypnotizing green eyes. A faint blush appeared on Jay's neck as he looked back down to Mickey. "Go get him, Jay. Try to be seductive!" he whispered shout, walking away slowly.

"How can you be seductive while restocking pads!?" he muttered angrily.

"You'll figure it out," he winked at him.

"Hey," he heard next to him.

"Hey," Jay responded.

Mickey walked away from them, leaving the co-workers to themselves.

"Shame they're gay," he heard one of the women employee whispering to her colleague nearby.

"You're so right," the girl he'd seen before complained. "I wouldn't have bet on Jay, but fuck." When she saw Mickey coming, she quickly focused her attention on him. "Hey," he said trying to make him look at her.

"I'm gayer than them," he only said, not stopping on his way.

"Fuck my life," she muttered.

***

He was barely unlocking his apartment when his phone buzzed in his pocket.

[3:59 PM] Ian: Are you working tonight?

[4:06 PM] Mickey Milkovich: Yes, why?

He didn't receive any answer, though. He assumed the redhead would come by Icarus that night then.

[5:18 PM] Jay Asher: You're right. He should know.

[5:22 PM] Mickey Milkovich: What made you change your mind?

[5:24 PM] Jay Asher: Rami asked me out. For a date. For real.

[5:25 PM] Mickey Milkovich: FINALLY!!!

[5:26 PM] Jay Asher: YES!!! :))))

[5:29 PM] Mickey Milkovich: So, when? Where? Details, dude!

[5:32 PM] Jay Asher: Monday night. Going for a drink then a movie. Or the other way around, idk. He comes to pick me up after work.

[5:33 PM] Mickey Milkovich: Pick you up? And a drink? He's not even taking you out properly??

[5:36 PM] Jay Asher: He finishes his shift three hours before me. And direct quote: "Your friend is working at a bar, right? Why not going there so that I know more about the rivalry." 

[5:39 PM] Mickey Milkovich: Rivalry? Really? Got no problems on that, you sure he's not hitting on me instead of you?

[5:41 PM] Jay Asher: Asshole. And no, he's not. He referred you as 'the guy with the tattoos' even though he knows your name.

[5:42 PM] Mickey Milkovich: He knows my name??

[5:46 PM] Jay Asher: Apparently I can't stop talking about my best friend. Go figure why I give him so much credit.

[5:47 PM] Mickey Milkovich: Dumbass.

[5:48 PM] Jay Asher: Fuckface.

[5:49 PM] Mickey Milkovich: You like to fuck that face.

[5:50 PM] Mickey Milkovich: Woah. No. Too much too soon. Forget that.

[5:52 PM] Jay Asher: Probably a good idea, yeah.

***

It was 10:10 PM when Ian showed up and took a seat at the same stool as the previous night. He patiently waited for Mickey to come to him.

"What would it be for tonight?" he asked him.

"Same as yesterday," Ian said, a bit taken aback from Mickey's impersonal behavior.

"Sure," he said. He uncapped the bottle of light beer and put it in front of the redhead before going back to work. Only a couple of minutes after, he warned his co-worker again that he was taking his break.

"Hey, don't drink on the job," Josh told him, watching him uncapping a beer bottle for himself.

"Sue me," he retorted with a smirk, walking to the end of the bar and settling on the stool next to Ian, repeating his actions of the night before. "Hey."

"Hi," Ian said, more comfortable now.

"You come here often?" Mickey asked, the tip of the bottle near his mouth. He tried to keep the nervousness to himself.

"You're serious?" Ian laughed, grabbing his beer too.

"Dead serious," Mickey nodded.

"It's only my second time here, actually," Ian said. "I'm kind of crushing on one of the bartenders," he whispered to him as if it was a massive secret.

"Nice," Mickey smiled, taking a sip or two from his beer. "I'm Mickey."

"Ian," the redhead said. "You wanna get out of here, Mickey?"

"I'm still working," he automatically replied.

"After your shift then," Ian insisted.

"Look, Ian. This," he motioned between them, "is starting over. We fucked up, the both of us. So why not pretending like nothing happened between us, ever."

"I was playing along," Ian raised an eyebrow.

Mickey stood up, almost closing the distance between them by standing between Ian's stool and his own. Ian's legs were parted to give him some space.

"I'm not an easy guy, Ian," he said, one of his hand settling on Ian's knee. The redhead looked down at him for a moment before locking his eyes with Mickey.

"That means I'll have to wine and dine you to bring you home?" Ian asked teasingly, licking his lips. One of his hand chanced its way on Mickey's hip. He closed his eyes despite himself, trying to not shiver because of the contact. He could feel Ian's heat against him, his shirt slightly up. A part of Ian's palm was directly in contact with his skin. He wanted more, but he controlled himself.

"Maybe an actual lunch or a coffee would be a good start," he retorted on the same tone after having reopened his eyes.

"You're free tomorrow?"

"Someone's eager, huh?" Mickey smiled, absentmindedly caressing Ian's knee and going up along his thigh.

"When you have someone like this," he punctuating the _ 'this'  _ by tapping gently Mickey's hip with the tip of his fingers, "you don't want to let them go."

"Well, you have my number," Mickey said, patting Ian's clothed skin one last time before parting and going back to work.

 


	9. Egyptian God and Irish Prince.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, at first I wanted to apologize for the massive parts of texts in this chapter and also the massive place the OC's are taking. Then, I reminded myself that if I want to write it, I'll write it. Period.  
> They're a big foreshadowing in this chapter, if people read between the lines.

[4:26 PM] Ian Gallagher: When are you free then?

[4:28 PM] Mickey Milkovich: I'm working nights, man.

[4:29 PM] Ian Gallagher: Tomorrow?

[4:30 PM] Mickey Milkovich: No.

[4:31 PM] Ian Gallagher: Why...

[4:32 PM] Mickey Milkovich: Remember my little speech?

[4:35 PM] Ian Gallagher: Fine. Okay. Tuesday then? Lunch?

[4:37 PM] Mickey Milkovich: Time and place?

[4:39 PM] Ian Gallagher: Meet me at like, 12:10 at the public library?

[4:42 PM] Mickey Milkovich: Public library? You know how many fucking public library there's in Chicago?

[4:44 PM] Ian Gallagher: The Chicago Public Library, dude.

[4:45 PM] Ian Gallagher: 12:10 then?

[4:47 PM] Mickey Milkovich: Yeah, sure.

[4:50 PM] Ian Gallagher: You know we could be together right now instead of texting.

[4:52 PM] Mickey Milkovich: Time is the key of better relationships.

"Time is the key of better relationships? Seriously, Mick?"

"Shut the fuck up and watch the movie you wanted to see so badly."

"Fine, grumble," Jay teased him by tickling his side thanks to the hand that was resting on it.

"Quit it," Mickey laughed instantly. He shifted on his couch so that he wasn't laying on his side anymore but on his back instead, his head remaining on Jay's lap.

"Okay, tough guy," Jay easily let go, dropping his hand on Mickey's stomach instead. He cleared his throat, tell tale sign that he was about to engage a conversation Mickey didn't want to have right now. "You know, I'm kind of nervous for tomorrow," he muttered at last. Mickey frowned and looked up at him, his sight being upside down from his position.

"Nervous?"

"Oh come on, you're just like I am. It's gonna be my actual first date. With a guy and all. A guy I like," he babbled, absentmindedly playing with the fabric of Mickey's t-shirt.

"Hey, don't you worry. You're gonna come by Icarus anyways. I'll be here to save your ass if you need help," he smiled warmly at him.

"Thanks. Oh, and can I take a shower here between classes and work? I mean, I'm gonna leave home at 7:30 AM, I don't want to stink and all."

"Yeah, sure, of course. Can even borrow clothes if you want. I don't mind."

"Even if I take the good ones that you won't be able to wear for your date with Ian?" Jay's grin could be heard in his voice as he teased him. 

"Shut up," Mickey grinned and slightly blushed despite himself.

"What is he saying anyways?"

Mickey unlocked his phone again. He had felt it vibrate twice but wouldn't dare checking the texts while Jay was actually talking to him and not watching TV.

[4:53 PM] Ian Gallagher: Relationships? Already with the big words. Interesting.

[5:01 PM] Ian Gallagher: What are you watching? I can hear the sound from down there.

"What is it again?" he asked Jay, too lazy to think about it.

"The Ruins, dude," Jay sighed, having repeated it a bunch of times already.

[5:03 PM] Mickey Milkovich: The Ruins. Supposed to be a horror movie or some shit.

[5:05 PM] Ian Gallagher: I could be there with you if you wanted to.

"Wait, he doesn't know I'm here? You're lying to him already?" Jay asked, not minding revealing that he was still reading his texts.

"I didn't lie. He didn't ask, and I just didn't provide the information. That's all."

[5:07 PM] Mickey Milkovich: In your dreams, Gallagher.

"That's still kind of lying to him, though, Mick," Jay kept on. "Sure that's a good idea?"

"How could he know if you're here or not, huh?"

"Do I have to remind you that he's your neighbor and that I often see him in the elevator or downstairs?"

"Fine."

[5:08 PM] Ian Gallagher: Way to crash me. Yeah, fine, I return to my book and let you get spooked by possessed plants.

[5:12 PM] Mickey Milkovich: Not afraid of fucking plants, don't worry for me. Jay might be though.

"Asshole," Jay pocked his rib to punctuate it.

"Hey, that way, I smoothly tell him I'm not alone," Mickey retorted.

"Not bad," the younger man admitted.

"I'm not bad."

"You can't reach the level of an Egyptian god, though."

"He's not fucking Egyptian, his family name's Davis," Mickey deadpanned.

"Rami's mom's Egyptian, shut up."

"Yeah, right."

"Besides, you have your Irish prince now," Jay said, biting the inside of his cheek -- awaiting for Mickey's reaction.

"Irish -- what? How do you know about that?" he rushed to say, sitting up and turning over to face him.

"Never forget you talk in your sleep," Jay smirked.

"That must have been awkward," Mickey made a face. 

"Kinda, yeah. But it's funny to know who you were dreaming about then. Why you whined the way you did, why you moaned -"

"Okay, stop. Stop right there." Jay laughed at his best friend's reaction, seeing the blush spreading all over his face. He was probably remembering those dirty dreams he'd had about Ian. "I should get ready for work, man. You stay here if you want and finish that movie. There's a spare key in one of the kitchen's drawer if you want to head back home."

"You're really leaving me the key to this place? Your home?" Jay asked seriously.

"Yeah, sure. I trust you, you know that. Plus, if I wanna go out tomorrow, you could still come by to do your stuff, you know?"

"Thank you," he said sincerely. He got up, ready to kiss Mickey but put his lips on his cheek instead, lacing his arms around him. They both still needed time to adjust on what they could or couldn't do anymore. It was weird sometimes, but they made it. They still slept in the same bed most nights though, they didn't mind. It was nice to have someone else's warmth at night.

***

Mickey watched his reflection in the mirror, wondering how did he end up to this. Back to his teenager years, he wouldn't have thought he would hang out with a guy he had been doing and it remaining still that casual. Nor had he thought he could text and flirt with another guy. It felt good to act so carefree, to not care about what others were thinking.

He turned the water on, letting time to heat it. He checked his phone to see if the redhead had said something else.

[5:15 PM] Ian Gallagher: Jay's here? Say hi to him.

[5:21 PM] Ian Gallagher: I'm gonna leave you to it then.

[5:24 PM] Mickey Milkovich: You know, it seems like you're getting jealous here, Gallagher.

He entered the shower with a small smile playing on his lips. He couldn't stop thinking about Ian's fingers on him, these pale freckled hands caressing his skin, kissing it. He shook his head to try to dismiss theses thoughts. He had already started getting a semi just thinking about it.

[5:27 PM] Ian Gallagher: If you're already talking about relationships, I think I can legitimately get a bit jealous already.

[5:31 PM] Mickey Milkovich: Got no reasons to.

[5:34 PM] Ian Gallagher: Fine. Well, my sister's coming soon. Talk later maybe.

[5:36 PM] Mickey Milkovich: Are you gonna sulk about it????

[5:37 PM] Ian Gallagher: No, my sister's really gonna arrive soon and this place's a mess. Later?

[5:42 PM] Mickey Milkovich: Maybe. Got work.

When he got out of the bathroom and walked to his bedroom, Jay called out his name.

"I'm begging you, Mick. Tell me you two weren't sexting right now."

Mickey made a face, before realizing he was still only in a towel, cellphone in hand with his eyes fixed on the screen. "Hm, no, don't worry dude," he chuckled.

***

[3:26 PM] Jay Asher: What if we don't like each others in the end?

[3:30 PM] Mickey Milkovich: Talking about Rami, I guess?

[3:31 PM] Jay Asher: Yeah.

[3:35 PM] Mickey Milkovich: Dude, get a hold of yourself. It's gonna be fine. The two of you have been getting around each others for weeks.

[3:36 PM] Jay Asher: If you say so.

[3:37 PM] Jay Asher: I'm on my way, btw.

[3:38 PM] Jay Asher: You home?

[3:40 PM] Mickey Milkovich: Nope, your brother's.

[3:42 PM] Jay Asher: Oh okay.

[3:49 PM] Jay Asher: I just realized, how old the fuck is Rami?? 

[3:51 PM] Mickey Milkovich: How the fuck should I know, he's YOUR coworker, not mine.

[3:52 PM] Jay Asher: Fuck.

[3:54 PM] Mickey Milkovich: Your brother wants to know what we're talking about and when you're gonna come by his place.

[3:55 PM] Jay Asher: idk.

[3:58 PM] Mickey Milkovich: Says you suck. And go get ready asshole you got work in half an hour!

[4:01 PM] Jay Asher: YES DAD! I'm already at yours, anyways. 

[4:03 PM] Mickey Milkovich: Don't dad me. It's weird.

[4:09 PM] Jay Asher: Whatever. You're free tomorrow night?

[4:11 PM] Mickey Milkovich: Think so, why?

[4:16 PM] Jay Asher: I think I'm gonna do it. If everything goes well tonight.

[4:17 PM] Mickey Milkovich: DO WHAT??

[4:26 PM] Mickey Milkovich: Jay, fucking answer me.

[4:29 PM] Jay Asher: Come out.

***

Mickey couldn't stop thinking about it. Jay really decided to come out? He was finally ready to not hide anymore? 

"Yo, assface, I'm talking to you," Jeremy snapped his fingers in front of him.

"Don't you assface me," he replied, shaking his head. He then refocusing his gaze on his brother-in-law's laptop.

"So, this a good idea or not?" Jeremy kept on, not caring about Mickey's comment.

"I don't know, man. I'm already attached to her for life, whether I like it or not," he said, shrugging.

"Help me out there, dude," Jeremy huffed nervously.

"Okay, so you really want to?"

"Yes."

"You think you're ready for it?"

"Yes."

"But, do you think she's ready for it?"

"That's my problem. She grew up too quickly but at the same time, she's still a kid in her head. That's why I need you, Mickey," Jeremy explained.

Mickey drummed two fingers on his bottom lip, thoughtful. Jeremy seemed serious about this proposing thing. It wasn't the first time he'd brought the subject to Mickey. Now he was even showing him rings to have his opinion on them before actually buying one.

"You know, she really loves you," he said lowly.

"I know she does."

"No, I don't think you do. I assume she has struggles saying these words to you, right?" Jeremy seemed hesitant. He looked down at his hands, then nodded slowly. "But she does say them. She actually sleeps in the same bed as you. She lets you take care of her when she has her crisis. I bet she doesn't brag about how no one could touch her for days after she'd have one and now? She lets you fucking cuddle her only hours after. Man, she'd be stupid to say no. Or too surprised that someone actually loves her that much."

"She knows I love her," Jeremy said weakly.

"And you know that love is kind of messed up from where we grew up," Mickey replied apologetically.

"I'm scared, you know?"

"Imagine how freaked out she'll be when you'll ask her then," Mickey smiled. He turned the laptop toward him to take a closer look to the rings. "Imagine how happy she'll be right after, and then years after."

He let Jeremy daydream for a couple of minutes, stars filling his eyes. When the older man realized he'd been gone, he snapped back to reality. "Which one, then?" he said, pointing at the screen.

"She's going to be your fiancé, then your wife. You know her."

"This one, then," he said, pointing at the most simple one. Mickey nodded, agreeing. Mandy wasn't keen on jewelry anymore. Sure, she liked being offered necklaces or bracelets or stuff like that, but she didn't wear them much. The one Jeremy had settled on was a thin band on gold, ornamented with a small but real diamond.

"That's the one I would've chosen for her."

***

"Everything's cool with my brother?" Jeremy asked as he brought Mickey a mug of coffee, having made himself some tea instead -- it was almost 6 PM.

"Yeah, why?"

"I don't know. The two of you are really close, and he and I aren't much anymore so..."

"It's cool. Don't worry," Mickey smiled. He didn't want him to worry. Jeremy's head was already filled with ideas of marriage, plus the stress from his job working on his nerves. "I might do something at my place tomorrow night if everyone's free."

"Everyone?"

"Yeah, well, you, Mands and Jay, I mean." Mickey wanted to be saddened knowing how restricted their little group was. And then he found himself thinking that maybe one day it wouldn't be a couple and two added pieces. Maybe one day, it'd be a group of friends, of three couples. Hopefully, one of its member would be a redhead.

***

Slow nights. Mickey hated them. Sometimes, being two bartenders at Icarus sucked because there wasn't even enough clients or patrons to keep the both of them entertained. Josh wasn't the kind of guy he got along with. He was decent, but they clearly didn't have the same interests. Plus, he suspected the guy to be homophobic. He'd never had a problem with it, and if something ever happened, Mickey wouldn't be the kind to let people talk shit about him.

Still, he was bored and he didn't want to text Ian just like that, without any valid reason to start a conversation. Plus, what if he drained all the conversation subjects and left nothing for tomorrow?

He wasn't about to text Jeremy or his sister neither. And Jay was off with Rami. He really needed to make more friends.

"Hey, you're gonna take your break?" Josh asked, actually waking him up from his reverie.

"Hm, I'll take it later." It was already 10:15 PM, the hopefully newly formed couple should be there soon. He didn't want to waste his break by smoking alone in the alley when he could spend it with Jay and Rami. The other man had wanted to come here to meet him properly, that meant he actually wanted to talk to him -- not only being served by him. At least, that was what Mickey assumed.

"Sure. 'M gonna take mine now, then. Just warn me," Josh said, grabbing his own pack of smoke from below the counter and tilting his head to the backdoor, eyes glued to a tall blonde. Gross.

***

It was about half an hour after that the two familiar faces passed the front door of Icarus. The both of them had smiles on their faces, their eyes shining. He saw Jay looking for him. When he actually spotted him, he saw his best friend's hand drop to lace his fingers with his date's, making their way to him.

"Hey," Jay cheered when he plopped on one of the stools. Rami stayed by his side, standing. "So, formal presentation. Rami, this is Mickey, my best friend. Mick, this is Rami."

"Hi," Rami smiled politely.

"Hey, man," Mickey replied, trying to keep the awkwardness to himself. Seeing the smile never leaving Jay's lip as his eyes roamed between him and Rami, he knew it had gone good. "So, drinks?"

"Yup," Jay nodded. "Usual, whiskey and coke. You?"

"Hm, just a beer," Rami said. "Barely legal and already with the strong alcohol?" he teasing him, smiling.

"I know, I'm bad," Jay laughed.

Mickey loved witnessing this moment, but at the same time, he felt as if he shouldn't be there. "There's an empty booth on the corner if you want, guys," he offered. "I'll bring you your drinks."

"Service table?" Jay teased him, jumping off of his stool.

"Don't get used to it," he told him, watching them leave.

He lazily prepared Jay's drink, poured beer into a pint and then made his way to them.

"Thanks," they said in unison when Mickey placed their glasses on the table.

"Hey, can you stay with us a sec?" Rami asked, a bit of hesitance in his voice. He glanced at Jay for any reaction, but the younger man only shrugged. Mickey looked back to the bar, still not much people and Josh was perfectly handling things on his own. At last, he slipped into the booth next to Rami. He didn't want to be sitting next to his best friend right now, it was safer to be next to his date, he thought.

"Oh, by the way," Jay quickly said, catching Mickey's attention. "I think Ian saw me earlier, running of the apartment with my hair all wet. You should maybe text him."

"Ian?" Rami asked.

"The guy he thinks I'm deeply in love with," Mickey provided.

"Yeah, and he's obviously going to date him so that would be awkward if he thought the two of us slept together," Jay said, not adding the element cluing Rami that they used to.

"Hm, you two live together?" The green eyes went from Jay to Mickey, resettling on Jay in a matter of seconds.

"No, he just crashes at my place more than he should," Mickey answered, glancing meaningfully at Jay. He actually didn't mind Jay's presence at his place, even missing him when he wasn't there. Living on his own was harder than he'd thought. Having him around was more comforting than what he would ever allowed himself to say out loud. Though, he knew that if his best friend ended up dating Rami for real or if himself got together with Ian or if both happened, they would need to put more distance between them. At least, not sleeping in the same bed most nights. "More convenient," he added.

"Oh cool," Rami nodded, grabbing his drink for the first time to taste it. A small silence settled between the three of them. It wasn't awkward, but Mickey took it as his cue to go back to work. He left them to themselves, walking back behind the counter.

He hesitated for a short moment, whether to text Ian or not about what Jay had told him. He decided against it, the guy was probably sleeping already anyways.

***

He watched them from time to time, being subtle about it for once. They both seemed so young and so carefree. It felt good seeing the both of them like this. He didn't know much about Rami, only what Jay had told him but still. It was nice to see two persons acting like this, laughing and smiling around the other one.

Mickey found himself envious of what Jay was experiencing. Not jealous, envious. Back when he'd been 21, he wouldn't have been able to act this way with another man. He hadn't even imagined himself dating someone for real. Now though, he wanted that. Having experienced a sort of relationship with Jay, he knew how it felt to act normally with someone, laying lazily on the couch while watching shitty shows. He'd liked it. He'd loved all the things he'd done with Jay, but, even back then, he'd known that it was bound to come to an end. Jay had known that too. Their sort of relationship had had a programmed end since day one.

In his mind, he toyed with the idea that, maybe, he could try to start something like this with Ian. He wouldn't mind trying, he just needed to be careful about not fucking things up.

***

The bar had gotten busy, not allowing him to take his break. He was now craving for a smoke. He could go without smoking for days if he wanted to, but when he needed a cigarette, the craving was too deep.

"Hey," he heard next to him, two glasses being put down on the counter.

"Refill?" he asked Rami.

"Sure," the other man agreed. "Jay went to the bathroom."

"Cool," Mickey said, not knowing what to answer. 

"Can I ask you something?"

Mickey looked around, then tilted his head toward on end of the bar -- less busy, less ears able to listen to them.

"I just wanted to know, is Jay out? I mean, he doesn't seem to be and I don't want to start a relationship with a closeted guy," he explained him. He seemed genuinely interested and upset about the subject. 

"He's not, yet," Mickey told him. "He wants to, though. I mean, he's working on it. Keep this to yourself, but he's planning on coming out to his brother soon and that's a big thing for him. Don't judge him for being in the closet."

"I'm not judging him, don't worry. I was his age when I finally came around my sexuality, not hiding it to anyone anymore. I know that hiding a relationship because one of the person involved isn't out is bound to end up badly. I just don't want to."

"He's worth it, you know? This detail shouldn't stop the two of you from doing whatever you want to do," Mickey told him, seriously.

"I know he's worth it," Rami muttered, but Mickey did hear him despite the noise and the music. "He's lucky to have you, you know? I gotta admit I'm kind of jealous of your relationship."

"You shouldn't," Mickey instantly replied. "There's nothing to be jealous about."

"You're pretty close," Rami pointed out. Mickey, then, remembered the comment about rivalry and recognized the look in the green eyes.

"There's nothing going on between him and me, Rami. Don't worry. We just have a pretty special relationship, that's all."

"Okay," Rami nodded, apparently content of this response. "And this Ian guy then?"

"I don't know yet," Mickey smiled shyly. He wanted to slap himself for acting like a teenage girl.

"Well, if he makes you react like this, I hope things will turn out alright," Rami smiled sincerely at him, patting his shoulder. As if on cue, Jay joined them only a couple of seconds afterwards.

"Talking about me?" he said, laughing. "No, actually, I don't want to know."

"Freak," Mickey laughed.

Rami brushed off a strand of hair that was falling in Jay's eyes, pushing his hair backwards. "Wanna dance?" The younger man seemed startled by the proposition. He searched for Mickey's eyes, as if he had an answer for him. Mickey only grinned and shook his head. Rami laughed too, grabbing his hand. "I'll show you," he told him, walking backward to the small area used as a dancefloor.

***

Around 2:40 AM, Mickey lowered the music gradually and turned the lights back on to make people understand they were about to close. Rami and Jay had been dancing most of the time, stopping only to get more alcohol in their systems.

"Guys, need to go," Mickey told them.

"Oh, hm, sure," Rami stammered.

"Chill, guys. Just warning you," Mickey explained. "I mean, if you stay here dancing, people won't get it and it's gonna be hell to close."

"Oh, it's cool," the other man replied. Jay was still moving his hips a bit, clinging at him with a silly smile on his face. He must be more drunk than Mickey had initially thought.

"Bring him back here."

Rami led him to a stool and waited for Mickey to finish cleaning up, even after everyone else was gone.

"It's weird, empty like this," he said.

"I know, right? It still surprises me sometimes to see the after party, you know?" Mickey said, shrugging slightly as if he didn't know how to phrase what was on his mind.

Jay was watching them, still grinning. "You know, I'm not that drunk, right?" he said.

"I know," Rami replied softly, brushing off this persistent strand of hair. "Still, I'm definitely not taking you home in that state," he said.

"I know, don't worry. You got work at 10 and your brother's at 8. It's cool."

"You're sure?" Rami insisted, almost nervously. "Hey, Mickey. Tell me he's gonna crash at your place," he called out for the other man who was locking the storage room.

"If he wants to, sure."

"See," he turned back to Jay, talking softly. "You're gonna crash at his, and then we'll see each others at work tomorrow."

***

Rami accompanied them both back to Mickey's place, leaving the Milkovich man walking ahead of them. Reaching his building, Mickey told Jay to buzz him when they'd be done. He didn't need to stay for the end of their date, he had already been too present for his own liking. He didn't miss the way Rami kissed Jay softly just as the door of the elevator closed.

Not jealousy. Envy.

Jay had stars in his eyes when he joined him later on. Mickey had to threaten him to make him sleep on his couch if he didn't shut up. Jay eventually did, but Mickey could feel the happiness radiating from the other man in his bed.

"I'm happy for you, you know," he whispered, wishing that Jay was already asleep.

"Thank you," he heard instead. He heard the noise of sheets being creased, and turned to lay on his side as well to face him. "I want to come out, Mickey."

"You're sure?"

"I've never been that sure, Mick. I want nights like this to happen again, not caring about what the others may think of two guys being on a date. I want your sister and my brother to stop worrying about me. It'll take more time for my parents, I know."

"Take your time, man."

"I don't want to lose any more time, Mickey. That's the problem. I don't want to fuck up things by being afraid of who I am. I like Rami, I want to start something with him."

"Then go for it."

"He asked me if I was free tomorrow night but I told him I'd be with my brother. Can we do this here?"

"Yeah, sure. Not gonna back out, are you?"

"I'm gay and I know it, Mick. I'm sure."

***

"Move," he groaned.

"You, move," he replied.

"Your hard-on is pressed against my side," Jay deadpanned.

"And yours against my thigh," Mickey retorted.

"Yeah, 'cause you're sprawled all over me," Jay told him, pushing him away.

"Asshole," Mickey mumbled, shifting in bed to lay on the other end -- far from Jay.

"You were talking about that too."

"What?"

"Fuck Ian, right there," he poorly imitated him.

"Urgh, shut up," Mickey groaned. "I heard you mumble about Egyptian Gods for half an hour before you finally fell asleep."

"I didn't."

"Yes, you did. Now let me go back to my dream, smartass."

"Idiot."

 

* * *

 

Ian was bored. His book was dull to the point he had to read over and over the same page before his brain snapped to make him register the information written on it.

He wanted to smoke. But he told himself he needed to slow it down for a bit. He had gone to one pack a day, even though he knew it was even worse mixed with his medicine. He made himself some tea, even though he disliked the taste of it. It was better doing so than drinking coffee at 4 PM on a Sunday afternoon. His sleeping schedule was already messed up.

He hesitated for a short moment before finally texting Mickey. He knew the other man was home, he could hear the sound of his TV playing. 

He tried to compose himself when he read the word 'relationship' in Mickey's text. Though, he couldn't stop himself from grinning at it. He knew it was silly to think about relationships already. They had slept together once, that was all. He wanted to get to know him more, yes. But maybe, in the end, they wouldn't like each others, or maybe they would be looking for different things.

He tried to brush the feeling off, to not thinking about the end of something that hadn't even properly started yet. 

It did make him think, though, when Mickey told him he was with Jay right now. He knew he should get a hold of himself, that he couldn't be jealous of the younger man. He was Mickey's best friend for Christ's sake. Yet, knowing more had happened between them and seeing how close they were, he couldn't stop the span of jealousy washing over himself. He didn't show it, though. He didn't comment on the fact that Jay was there, only sending a polite 'say hi to him', like anyone else would do in this situation. 

Though, when the other man didn't answer, he felt as if he was interrupting something between them. Maybe he was annoying him with his texts. When Mickey typed the word 'jealous', he replied with the 'relationship' one. Mickey was obviously teasing him and playing with him, but Ian needed to be serious right now. He knew it was stupid to act like this, but hell if it was about to stop him.

Mickey telling him he didn't have any reason to be jealous reassured him. He wanted to tell him that he obviously had reasons to be jealous of Jay right now. They were probably snuggled on his couch together right now while Ian was home alone. Instead, he told him that his sister would come by in a few, that he needed to clean up his apartment before she arrived.

Lies. His apartment was cleaner than ever, having been up since 8 in the morning. No dust on furniture, no clothes on the floor, no dishes to wash. Nothing to do except thinking about that other man he had slept with once and started thinking about way too much for his own liking.

***

Debbie texted him about an hour later, telling him that her boss had needed her for tonight, that she was sorry to cancel their plan that late.

[6:36 PM] Ian Gallagher: It's okay, Debs. Take care of yourself. See you soon.

[6:41 PM] Debbie Gallagher: See you soon, yeah. xxx

He stuck to their plan, though. Except that he ate the macaroni and cheese while watching an old version of Dracula by himself on his couch. He hated Sunday nights like these.

***

He was actually glad that this Monday at work was busy -- or at least, the morning was. He barely had any spare time to talk to Shawn, to keep him updated with things. He felt as if he should tell him what was going on with him. Alisha gave him small apologetic smiles all day long, he needed to know why.

Lydia let him go earlier today again. As if this action was cursed, he saw Jay running off his building, hair damp, just as he reached it. He tried not to think much about it, but it was rather suspicious to see the other man in such state leaving Mickey's and his building.

It didn't leave his mind all night long. He tried to think about any other reason as to why the other man would be damp leaving Mickey's apartment. He couldn't stop thinking about the apparently amazing sex Mickey and him used to have -- at least, from what he'd heard, it'd been amazing. What if the two of them were still going at it?

***

It was around 9 PM when Ian decided to finally call Shawn. He needed to take his mind out of it.

"Hi," he was greeted with when the line connected.

"Hey yourself," he replied.

"You're feeling better that you're calling me?" Shawn asked, no venom in his voice, only genuine concern.

"Yeah. Actually, yeah," Ian found himself nodding at the question.

"Great," he heard on the other end.

"Wanna come by?"

"I don't think that's a good idea, Ian," Shawn told him. "I mean, we - hm, you know..."

"Oh no, not like this," Ian instantly said. "Just pizza and beer night? As friends? If you haven't had dinner yet and if you're free, I mean," he said awkwardly. He wanted to slap himself for acting so sheepish. He'd been off to war for Christ's sake!

"Just friends?" Shawn repeated.

"Just friends," Ian agreed. "I kinda missed having you around, you know. It's weird spending time alone when I used to have you here to talk and all."

"Debbie doesn't come by?"

"She was supposed to last night, but her boss called her to fill in."

"Oh. Well, I bring the beers and you order the pizzas?" he offered.

"Sure, see you in a few."

***

The both of them were sprawled on Ian's couch, having eaten way too much pizza.

"So, gonna tell me what's up?" Shawn asked when the credits rolled and ads popped up on the TV screen at the end of their episode.

"What, what's up?" Ian tried to act casual.

"Ian, you can talk to me about this guy, you know? I'm not gonna get jealous or some shit," he told him. "I'm your friend at first, I know you."

"Okay, so what was the last thing I told you about him?"

"That you really liked him and didn't know what you were doing with him," Shawn reminded him. "Then we stopped fucking and you started ignoring me."

"Sorry," Ian mumbled.

"Hey, I didn't say that you make you feel bad. Just to replace the events in the right order," the blond smiled at him, nudging his shoulder.

"Oh okay. So long story short. We slept together, things got awkward, we didn't talk, and tomorrow I have a date with him."

"You what? You slept together?"

"Hm, yeah. That day we talked, actually."

"Things got awkward?"

"Yeah, well. Big misunderstanding. I was told he had a boyfriend so I avoided him, you know me -"

"Yeah."

"But Jay, the guy who warned me, mistook things. He thought Mickey had a boyfriend but in fact the guy was me apparently?"

"You? I don't get it."

"He told him he'd slept with someone, aka me. But Jay thought it was more than that so he assumed Mickey had a boyfriend. He doesn't, though. And now we have a date tomorrow."

"Why are you making this face, then?"

"Well... Jay and him used to sleep together. Or are sleeping together, I don't know."

"Wait, fuck buddies?"

"It's more than that, they're pretty fucking close. It's weird. But like, if we're gonna go out together, that means they stopped their arrangement, right?"

"That'd be the normal thing to do," Shawn agreed.

"Thing is, when I came back from work earlier, I saw Jay damp quickly leaving this building."

"Damp as in I quickly took a shower before leaving?"

"Yeah, that kind."

"And you assume they slept together."

"That's stupid, right?"

"Completely. Especially after what you told me. They're close, like really. How many times did you take a shower at my place back then, even when we didn't have sex?"

"Not much."

"Okay, how many times did I shower here without any sex involved?"

"Fine, you win," Ian huffed, not completely convinced. 

"Ian," he turned the redhead's face toward him. "If you're worried about this, bring up the subject tomorrow. Don't worry about sounding, I don't know, jealous or some shit. I think he'll get it if nothing's going on between the two of them."

"Right," Ian shrugged. "Fine."

"Things are gonna be fine, Ian. Don't worry that much. Don't take things so seriously."

"I like him, Shawn. That's fucking scary. I don't know him, but I like him. I feel like a teenage girl having her first crush."

"You kinda look like it," the blond joked.

"Fucker," Ian retorted, snuggling against him.

"Sure that's a good idea?" he asked, lacing his arm around Ian's shoulder nonetheless.

"That's purely platonic, don't worry."

"If you say so."

***

Shawn left about an hour after, claiming it was better for them to not sleep together in the same bed anymore. Ian couldn't deny that it was better that way. He didn't mind having someone keeping him warm at night. Shawn had rarely stayed the night anyways -- he wasn't about to start doing it now that they weren't having sex anymore.

He tossed and turned in bed for hours, thinking about the next day. He wanted everything to work out, his mind was racing. He couldn't shut it off more than a couple of minutes. At 4:43 AM, he accepted the idea that he wouldn't get any sleep that night.

He reluctantly got up, threw his sweatpants, t-shirt, sport jacket on. In his kitchen, he grabbed a fresh bottle of water from the fridge and added it to the towel in his sports bag.

Throwing his bag over his shoulder, he decided to jog to the stadium. He had too much energy for his liking, he needed to spend it.

He easily accessed the stadium thanks to the never-closing gate hidden behind dumpsters. He liked being there when no one else was. It didn't feel lonely, it was peaceful.

Having access to the bottom of the sections, he stretched his legs before starting his tour de stade. Running up and down the steps of every sections freed his mind. He couldn't think of anything else while doing this, being to focused on not missing a single step.

He was quicker than usual, running around the whole stadium with about 3 minutes less than what he had done the last time he'd gone there. 

Doing his last section, his mind wandered back to Mickey, making him miss a step. He fell face first, twisting his ankle doing so. He quickly caught himself thanks to the row of seats, cursing loudly.

"Shit," he muttered then, feeling the pain. He moved his foot one way then the other -- not strained. He tried to finish his tour, but the pain in his ankle was too present for him to keep on. He dragged himself to his sports bag -- not by pain, but by reluctance. He drank a third of the water before sitting down properly. He faced the whole stadium.

The sun had barely started rising, barely lighting up the city. He stayed there for a moment, breathing in and out while watching the mortality of the place. At last, he grabbed his phone, seeing it was over 6 AM already.

[6:03 AM] Ian Gallagher: Hey Debs! Since you didn't come by Sunday night, I didn't tell you. I got a date with Mickey today, I'll let you know how it went. Can you come by tonight? I miss you.

[6:05 AM] Ian Gallagher: Thank you for last night. Still sorry about how I ignored you, but yeah, thanks.

He was longer to make his way home, avoiding taking the stairs this time and going straight for the elevator. He should leave for work earlier than usual if he wanted to be on time today.

***

As soon as he got into the library, he looked for Lydia. He knew she was the one he needed to talk to. When he spotted her, she instantly saw in his look that he was about to ask a favor.

"What do you want, Ian?"

"Hello to you to," he tried to ease.

"Spit it," she said. Her tone was one of a middle aged woman used to teenagers always asking for things.

"I got plans for lunch and I was wondering if I could take a longer break."

"Longer? As in?"

"What do you got to offer?"

"Well, I can offer you the rest of your day if you want," she told him with a smirk.

"Seriously?" His eyebrows shot up. "What's the condition? There has to be a condition."

"I cover for you this afternoon, you cover for me Saturday morning?"

"Sure, no problems!" He rushed to accept. He was the only employee having his weekends free. He knew that trading an afternoon with a half-day during the weekend was wanted -- a perk for him.

She smiled up at him and they made their way to the small employee room. There, behind the door, was a board with the names of the employees and their working days. They exchanged their half day.

"So, what's his name?" she asked.

"His name?" he repeated, trying to pretend he didn't know what she was talking about.

"You're going on a date, right?" she said, pointing at his outfit. "You're all dressed up."

"I'm always dressed up," he retorted out of habit.

"Yeah, but you put on your best pair of jeans and the light black jacket despite it being the end of September. So, what's his name?" she repeated, still smiling genuinely at him.

"Fine, but how do you it's a he and not a she?" He hadn't come out to her, the only person here knowing about his sexuality was Shawn -- and the guy wasn't about to out the both of them at their work place.

"Figured it out," she shrugged. When she saw he was expecting more of an answer, she kept on. "If only you noticed all the girls watching you in here..."

"I notice them," he said.

"When they blatantly hit on you, sure you do. But when they are more subtle about it, it's like you don't even realize how hard they're trying. And Shawn too, by the way. I don't think he's even trying, to be honest. So, what's his name?"

"Mickey," he gave in.

"Well, Ian. Have fun with Mickey while I deal with secretive customers," she told him, leaving the room. As if on cue, Shawn entered only a couple of minutes after.

"Hm, you look good like this," he told him, faking being flirtatious. Ian laughed at his behavior. It felt good to have him back.

"Thanks," he told him.

"Don't think about it too much," he whispered in his ear when Ian was facing the inside of his locker. He slightly shook his shoulders by putting both of his hands on them. "Everything's gonna be fine, alright?"

"Sure," he replied, shrugging off the hands. "I'm not worried."

"Yeah, whatever," Shawn laughed. Ian left him by himself in the employee room, actually going to work. 

***

As soon as his watch clicked midday, Ian was off to the employee room. He collected his belongings and thanked Lydia once more for the switched shifts.

He still had some struggle walking, his ankle sometimes making him walk funny. He leaned against the facade of the building, lighting a cigarette while waiting.

If the nervousness had faded while running and working, now that he was actually waiting for his date to show up, everything came crashing back.

"I think this one is smoked to the butt," he heard next to him, startling him.

"Fuck," he let out without meaning to. Mickey was standing next to him, a confident smile playing on his lips. "Didn't see you coming," he told him.

"I think that even if I'd snapped my fingers in front of your face, you wouldn't have noticed. You were gone for good," he said easily.

"Yeah, sorry."

"Don't have to apologize, man. Nothing to be sorry for," Mickey said, lighting a cigarette. "Want one?"

"Hm, sure," Ian agreed, despite having his own pack in his hand.

"So, where are you taking me?" Mickey asked.

"There's a small restaurant nearby called the Phoenix. I've never tried it so why not giving it shot?"

"Yeah, sure. Lead the way," Mickey motioned with his smoke. When they started walking, he immediately felt Mickey's eyes starring at his feet, he noticed. "Hurt yourself?"

"I tripped in the stadium this morning, nothing big," Ian shrugged.

"Doesn't hurt too much? We can slow down if you want," he offered.

"No, it's okay. It's not even strained. I give it a couple of days, and it'll be gone."

"Well, if you say so. So, why the library? You're a book fanatic or some shit?"

"Can say that," Ian smiled before taking a lungful of smoke. "I work there."

"You work in a library?" Mickey asked, clearly surprised as his eyebrows shot really high on his forehead.

"I do, why?"

"It's just," he motioned for Ian's body with his hand. "With this and the training, I thought you would do a job more physical. I don't know, it's stupid."

"No, it's fine. I actually was in the army for awhile," Ian provided. He surprised himself by mentioning the army so easily to someone he barely knew. Even to his close relatives, the army was a sore subject, promptly avoided.

"Hm, a former soldier. I like how it sounds," Mickey smirked then laughed. "Here?" he said, pointing at the letters PHOENIX written above a single door.

"Yup," Ian agreed.

***

They had their drinks in front of them, awaiting for their food in a secluded area of the restaurant. It felt cozy and intimate.

"So, you work in a library," Mickey brought their previous subject back.

"Yeah, I've been working there for a couple of years now. It's a nice place, actually. You should come by."

"I'm not really the type to read, you know."

"It's okay. Not everyone has to be into books," Ian told him, taking a sip from his drink. "So, Icarus?"

"What about Icarus?"

"Nice place to work at or customers are assholes?"

"Some are, some aren't. I mean, it's a bar so people can get pissy easily but at the same time, they're looking for fun so... Plus, easier to find people there, you know," he told him with a wink.

"I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that," Ian said lowly, squirming on his seat.

"No, listen to this. One time -"

"Mickey, please. I don't need to hear a story of you going home with some random dude thanks to the place you work at."

"Good. 'Cause that's not the story. I was about to say that one time a guy told me he was crushing on one of the bartenders, and I was glad for the heat so that he couldn't see me fucking blush like a teenage girl."

"And what happened next?" Ian asked, knowing the answer, though.

"Well, the story is still in writing. But I feel like it's gonna be good," he shrugged.

"You're an idiot," Ian laughed lightly.

"Hey, you asked me out," Mickey retorted.

"Yeah, I did. Was that a good idea?"

"I don't know. That's my first time doing this. Is it going well, or is it just a feeling I have?"

"I'd say it's going well for now," Ian agreed.

***

"I need to ask, though," Mickey said, mouth full of food, but he couldn't care less. "How old are you?"

"Why?" Ian laughed, everything had gone good until now. "How old do I look?"

"Too young for someone who's retired from the army," Mickey told him.

"Oh," Ian's face fell. "I was dismissed, actually."

"Shit," Mickey muttered. "Sore subject, I guess?"

"Kinda. But first, is this, us, going somewhere?"

"Somewhere?"

"If I asked you out for another date, would you say yes?"

Mickey didn't even seem to hesitate before letting out a frank, "Yes."

"And I like you so," he said to himself. "Story time?"

"If that's not too personal, man," Mickey said unsure.

"If we're gonna do this, you need to know about me," Ian replied earnestly.

"Okay, tell me, you're scaring me."

"I spent four and a half years in the army. I'd enlisted back when I was just 18. There, I was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder. Like, high highs and low lows on repeat. I was really high most of the time, the low finally hitting me when I came back from my first tour in the Middle East. I mean, when the depression hit me, they found a way to dismiss me for psychological illness. So, almost 23 year old me found himself back in Chicago, done with his career in the army," he explained him as if he was telling someone else's story -- as if it wasn't hurting him or bringing back memories. "Shit, I've never said that out loud."

"That's pretty fucked up, man," Mickey told him at last.

"I know it is, that's why you should know. Bipolar disorder is a big thing to deal with and I'll get it if you didn't want to get involved." He secretly hoped Mickey would run away from him right now, so that he wouldn't be hurt by his behavior at some point.

"We all have our flaws man, I dealt with fucked-up before," Mickey said sincerely -- images playing behind his eyes as he said so, as if he was remembering past events as well.

"That's a huge thing, Mickey," he insisted.

"I guess, yeah. But you're what, on medication, right?"

"I am, yes."

"So if things go wrong, you have a doctor to go to and all."

"Yes."

"I don't see why you're worried, then. I mean, it's not your fault you're like this? You didn't ask for it. Why would someone blame you for it?"

"Well, people tend to be narrow-minded when it comes to mental illness, you know."

"Well, I'm not like most people," Mickey cocked an eyebrow.

"Maybe that's why I like you," Ian said without thinking.

"You know what I like as well?" When Ian looked at him intently, he kept on. "That chocolate lava cake on the menu."

"Really?" Ian let out a chuckle, he should've expected Mickey to go back to a lighter subject. He was actually relieved to have told him about his illness and having him reacting this way. Mickey had seemed honest when he'd talked.

"Yup," Mickey nodded with a grin. "It said it's big enough for two, sharing?"

"You really wanna share a dessert on a first date?" Ian felt like asking.

"Why? That's not something people do? Fuck what people do, I know I won't be able to eat it all by myself." Ian shook his head, looking down to poorly hide the grin plastered on his face. "And yeah, I secretly want you to eat like a normal human being and not like a Calvin Klein model," he added, laughing.

"Don't worry about that, I think I got a bad eating behavior."

"The fact that you actually use words like 'eating behavior' clues me to thinking you're wrong," Mickey deadpanned.

"I'll make you my mac'n'cheese and you'll tell me if that's healthy," Ian laughed.

"Is that an offer?"

"Depends. Are you taking it?"

"Depends. When?"

"Tonight?" Ian offered. He guessed Mickey would say another line about waiting and taking their time and all. He was actually surprised when, instead, Mickey bit down his lip.

"I can't. Got plans for tonight. Another day?"

"Whenever you're free."

"I'm free all day long," Mickey smiled.

"And I'm working all day long," Ian retorted.

"Oh, shouldn't you head back to work soon?" Mickey instantly said, checking his phone to see what time it was.

"Don't worry, I took the afternoon off. We got time."

"You were thinking about taking me somewhere else?" Mickey licked his lips playfully.

"If things went well, why not?"

"Let's order this dessert then," Mickey decided.

"Sure," Ian agreed, looking for a waiter. "And I'm 25, by the way."

 


	10. Holes & Balls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter and this one happened to be over 8,000 words long. I intentionally didn't split them into three or four different parts. Though, that doesn't mean the next chapters will be as long. My aim is around 4,000 words per chapter for this fic.  
> Now, big thank you to Nuria for having read the first half of this chapter and telling me what you thought about it. I added some bits, not much. I also improved what you suggested me. So yeah, thanks for telling me.  
> Other thanks to Claudia who, despite herself, gave me an idea about the dinner happening in the chapter (and not only about the food itself, Claudia!)

"This is delicious," Ian almost moaned as he forked more of the chocolate cake into his mouth. Mickey couldn't stop grinning, mouth close. Ian had made fun of Carl enough time when he'd eaten chocolate and still acted as if it hadn't tainted his teeth. He knew better than doing so while having Mickey in front of him. The other man probably did as well.

"See, feels good to eat actual food," he teased him.

"I eat actual food, Mickey. I don't know why you're stuck on the idea that I don't," Ian retorted, moving a piece of the cake into the whipped cream before leading it to his mouth. Mickey's eyes never left the piece of food, then his lips.

"Look at yourself in a mirror, Gallagher," he said, once composed.

"I exercise a lot, that's all. I need to," he told him. Mickey watched him quizzically, his own fork midway between the plate and his mouth. "I need to keep a routine. It's better for my meds and all."

"That's why the 5:30 every morning, even on weekends?" Mickey asked.

"That's why," Ian nodded. He still didn't know why he let Mickey know that much about him, so soon, so quickly. He didn't know much about the other man, yet, he let out information about himself so easily.

"Damn, I couldn't do it."

"You get used to it," he shrugged noncommittally. He toyed with his side of the cake, waiting for Mickey to eat more of it before going at it once more.

"So that means I'll have to get used to it," Mickey said out loud. With the look on his face, Ian saw that the dark haired man hadn't meant to say these words out loud. So, to not embarrass him, he pretended to not having heard them by taking a sip of his drink.

The words stayed stuck in his mind, though. _Getting used to it_. He hadn't said it in a sort of platonic way. Mickey had moved almost two months ago, if he had needed to get used to an alarm downstairs, he would have done it already. Ian wished that maybe, getting used to it, could mean getting used to the guy in bed with him waking up that early.

"You've -- You've got some whipped cream," the redhead let out awkwardly after a beat, trying to motion for Mickey's mouth. The other man smiled shyly and thumbed the corner of his mouth before sucking the remaining of cream on it.

"Thanks," he murmured. Ian knew he was starring but how could he not? "So, where did you want to take me?"

"What?"

"Your free afternoon. You said something about doing something else. Did you have a particular idea?"

"Well, I love playing with holes and balls. Bowling?" Ian joked, biting the inside of his cheek when he saw the other man cracking another smile.

"Holes and balls?" he laughed lightly. "That sucked. And no pun intended," he quickly caught himself. Ian couldn't contain the small laughter from escaping his throat as well. "Anyways, sure that's a good idea?"

"Why wouldn't it be?" Ian frowned.

"Hm, your ankle?" Mickey motioned vaguely for under their table.

"Oh right," Ian whispered. He tried to think about something else to do but Mickey cut him short.

"I know one thing we could do involving holes, but with smaller balls," he told him. "No sex involved, though."

"You're worse than me," the redhead said, astonished.

"Hey, you started it," Mickey pointed out.

"I did, I did," he relented. "Finishing it?"

"Yup."

***

When they were given the bill, Ian snatched it before the other man could even think about taking a look at it.

"I'll pay."

"What do you mean, you'll pay? We share," Mickey retorted, an air of surprised on his face -- as if he hadn't expected Ian to pay for them both.

"No, we don't," Ian smiled. "This is a date, I invited you. So, I'm paying."

"That's part of the dating thing?"

"It is," the redhead nodded. "You'll pay next time, then."

"Next time?"

"There's gonna be a next time, right?" He asked unsure, all hopes crashing so quickly inside of him.

"There is. But I thought next time would be your cooking," Mickey quirked an eyebrow, daring him.

"Right. The one after, then," Ian smiled broadly, standing up.

"Sure," Mickey mirrored his expression, grabbing his jacket. Ian tried to act as casual as possible. Mickey had just agreed to go on two other dates with him. He knew he shouldn't feel the way he did, all fuzzy inside. This was stupid. Yet, he couldn't shake the thought that Mickey had agreed as if it was absolutely normal -- like no wouldn't be a plausible answer.

***

"So, where are you taking me?" Ian asked as they tiptoed their way through the city.

"You'll get it soon enough," Mickey reassured him, still slowing his pace to match with Ian's. "You're good?"

"Yeah, I told you. It'll be good in a couple of days," he replied. It felt weird to have someone caring about him like this. Sure, his siblings had always cared when they'd been growing up. But they were the six of them, they couldn't always care about every little thing happening to each others. Yet, Mickey asking him that, he liked it.

"Shouldn't you, like, not put pressure on it or something?" Mickey asked, turning in an alley.

Ian frowned a bit at where he was led to, but followed nonetheless. "Nah, would be worse if I didn't walk. It's fine."

"If you say so," Mickey shrugged, stopping at a door and getting keys out of his jacket's pocket.

"Where are we?" He asked again, the words going out of his mouth without his own accord.

"You'll understand once inside."

"If you're leading me to an abandon place to murder me, I'm telling you, even with a fucked up ankle I can probably out run you if I want to," the redhead said jokingly.

"Don't underestimate my stamina," Mickey told him, putting his hand on his clothed chest. He drummed his fingers on it before saying, "Come on in."

Ian had to collect himself. Even a simple lingering hand on him, despite the layers of clothes, made him want to push Mickey against a wall and kiss him. He just wanted to run his hands all over his body, to touch him.

"So that's your secret place," Ian mumbled as he recognized the faint yellow walls and the dark wood. "Not so secret."

"Hey. It's secret when you can come in even when it's closed," Mickey told him. "Welcome to the closed Icarus," Mickey said, deploying his arms to make a show. "May you enjoy your stay in a closed bar while it lasts," he laughed.

"You know, I can get the keys of a 'secret' place as well," Ian told him, joining him at the counter.

"If your secret place is the library, no thanks," Mickey said, looking for something.

"That's not it, but you shouldn't spit on an idea like this. Fucking among the books can be a good idea," he said without thinking.

"Except that we're not at the fucking part yet," Mickey shot back, teasingly. He was slightly relieved that Mickey hadn't backed away at his words.

"I know. I'll bring you to this place, though. I think you'll like it," he told him, images filling his mind.

"If that involves being the two of us, and having fun together, sure," Mickey let out, almost talking to himself. Ian wanted to say that yes, just the two of them, obviously having fun. Fuck, he wished he could go there right now, bringing Mickey with him. "Here," he grinned. He put the pool balls, the cue sticks and the rack on the counter between them.

"That's your game of holes and balls?" Ian asked, playing with one of the heavy ball.

Mickey shrugged, "is that a problem?"

"Not much of a pool player," he admitted.

"Why? Don't know how to play and actually suck?"

"Don't really know how to play, actually," Ian relented. Despite almost growing up in a bar in the South Side, he never really learned how to play pool. Lip had never wanted to explain him the rules, and it wasn't like he wanted to learn another thing thanks to his older brother.

He didn't want to think about Lip right now. He didn't want to think about back home. Instead, he grabbed the items in front of him and walked toward the pool table.

"Hey, want something to drink?" Mickey was loud enough for him to hear.

"That early?" he retorted.

Mickey appeared behind him out of nowhere, "what time is it?" Mickey put his head on his shoulder, looking down at his hands.

Ian took his phone out of his pocket, actually checking the time for the first time since he had met Mickey in front of the library. "Over 2 PM," he said out loud, despite knowing Mickey could see his phone's screen. He turned around, pocketing his phone. The distance between them was still thin.

Mickey's lips twitched. He just wanted to kiss this expression away. "Too soon for you to have a simple beer?"

"Light," he agreed.

"As light as I can find," Mickey told him, a soft expression on his face.

***

Ian tried to approach the subject as lightly as possible, but he couldn't find a way to form a sentence that didn't sound as if he was jealous. He positioned himself by the table, resting his hands on the top of the cue stick, watching Mickey play.

"Hm, you know, I saw Jay yesterday," he settled for. He quickly grabbed his drink to busy himself.

"Ah, yeah, he told me," Mickey replied casually. He didn't seem to hide anything or to at least want to. That reassured him. "I actually wondered how long you would last without asking me about it."

"Why?" Ian felt like asking.

"Well, I would ask too if I saw a guy freshly out of the shower leaving your place," he pointed out. "I wasn't there," he added afterward. "I was at Jeremy's, but Jay warned me about it, telling me I should text you about it."

"Why didn't you?"

"Why would I do this? We hadn't even gone to a date back then," he shrugged. Ian didn't know how to take the information. "Plus, I think that would've been a bit suspicious, no? Quickly sending a 'that's not what you think' text?"

"Probably yeah," Ian agreed. "But, that means he has a key?" He finally connected the dots. If Mickey hadn't been there, that meant the other man had a key to go in and out of his apartment freely, right?

"For emergencies," he let out, crossing his arms.

Ian nodded, but didn't totally believe in this part. He wouldn't ask more, though. He knew how close they were, so.

***

They had been playing for God-knows-long when Ian felt like teasing Mickey for how bad he actually played.

"Did you ever learn to actually play pool or did you just pretend?"

"Hey, I never said I knew how to play," Mickey retorted, bent over the table and concentrating on the ball he was aiming at.

"You brought me here," Ian pointed out.

"Yeah, 'cause I actually wanted to spend time with you."

"You did?" Ian let out, hand dropping on Mickey's bicep. The other man shivered against his touch, his eyes closing.

"I didn't want to go home to spend time alone knowing you would do the same, considering you didn't have to work."

"You know how sweet you actually are?"

"Shut up," Mickey dismissed him, blushing slightly. He brushed Ian's hand off of his arm and refocused his gaze on his game.

"Well, then. How come someone working in a bar doesn't know how to play pool?"

"What's up with the questions?" Mickey huffed.

"I'm trying to distract you, obviously," Ian laughed, rounding the table. He squatted right in front of the table, putting his head on its edge. He was in the direct line of Mickey's sight. "Is it working?"

"Guess."

"It is, then," Ian grinned. "So, bartender, playing pool?"

"You're an ass, you know that?" Mickey groaned. "You said the answer. I'm working at a bar, not crashing it and spending my money on alcohol. I'm actually working."

He then aimed more precisely, pushed the cue stick and watched at the white ball hit the ball he'd been aiming for. He missed though, the said ball not going into the hole.

"You should let me win, you know," Mickey sighed.

"Why would I do that?"

"Boost my ego? I don't know. Give you another chance to go on a date with me," he said then, tongue licking the corner of his mouth.

"If I recall correctly," Ian started, getting up. He rounded the table again, going closer to Mickey this time. "You already agreed to two more dates with me."

"What if I changed my mind?"

"Why would you change your mind?" Ian shot back instantly, eyes never leaving Mickey. He barely registered how close they were right now. He could smell the alcohol in Mickey's breath, sensing the heat of his body as well.

"I don't know," Mickey said, eyebrows climbing up on his forehead. His piercing blue eyes almost crossed due to the distance between them -- or lack of it thereof. "Maybe, I don't like you that much."

"You don't even believe in what you're saying."

"How could you know?" One of his eyebrow shot higher than the other.

"You like me, don't pretend like you don't."

"Why?"

"Well, I like you too."

"Oh, you do now."

"I've always done," Ian murmured.

"Do people kiss on the first date?"

"Considering we literally fuck before it, I assume we can."

"Great," Mickey breathed. A beat passed, both looking at the other one, not making a move. At last, Ian felt a hand running up his back to settle on his neck. Being brought forward, he softly connected his lips to Mickey's.

It felt good to taste him again. The faint taste of cigarette was there, mixed with the alcohol, but he didn't mind.

Mickey sighed into the kiss, parting his lips -- asking for more. Ian gave in, chancing his tongue in Mickey's mouth. It felt so natural to kiss him.

His hands settled on Mickey's hips, almost too shy to pry any other part of his body. Mickey cradled his face, biting down his bottom lip teasingly.

Ian chuckled against him, but relented. He kissed him with more conviction, pushing him against the pool table. Mickey moaned against his mouth, but he shut him up by playing with his tongue.

"Nothing more is gonna happen," Mickey muttered against his lips. His eyes were still closed, his whole body pressed against his.

"No sex on the first date," Ian agreed. His hands moved from Mickey's hips to his ass, cupping his cheeks. He loved his ass. He thought he would never get tired of it.

"We're on the same wavelength then," Mickey kept on, pushing his ass against his hands.

"Don't worry about that," Ian breathed in his mouth, nibbling at his lip then. He moved his hands once more, lifting easily Mickey off of the floor to make him sit on the table. The other man parted his legs for Ian to settle between them. Once they were pressed together again, he locked his ankles against the back of Ian's thighs, trapping him.

"Hm, into the  _ fuck in a public place _ thing?"

"We're definitely gonna fuck on this table at some point," Ian breathed.

"Oh yeah?" Mickey breathed back in his ear before starting sucking on the skin below it.

"Yeah," Ian moaned louder than what he'd expected. "Fuck, you're good at this."

"I know," Mickey chuckled lightly against him.

"God, I want you," Ian sighed, not controlling himself anymore. He moved Mickey's head back to its original place to kiss him deeply. He blindly pushed the pool balls away and made Mickey lay on the table. He bent over to keep their bodies pressed. He could feel Mickey's erection growing against his own. He ran his hand over Mickey's clothed side, going southern to his ass then going along his thigh -- lifting it up.

"Shit, Ian," he breathed. "Calm - Slower," he babbled.

"Yeah," Ian agreed. He hadn't noticed he had started rutting against Mickey. He breathed in deeply, resting his forehead against Mickey's shoulder.

Both were panting, struggling to catch their breath. Ian knew that if they had kept on like this, he might have come in his pants like some horny teenager.

He felt hands running along his back. It felt soothingly good.

"Thank you," Mickey murmured.

"For what?" he asked, head barely moving to look at his face. Mickey looked down at him.

"For stopping."

"I'm not going to push you into having sex, Mickey."

"We already did, though."

"Yeah, but we didn't know each others. You want to take it slow? I get it. I'm not going to push you further," he breathed.

"How the hell did I find a guy like you?" Mickey asked, brushing the red hair backward.

"I can ask the same question," Ian retorted, shifting enough to connect their lips once more.

The way they had kissed earlier could have been described as passionate, needing, hungry. This time, though, the softness of it surprised Ian himself. He had kissed other guys this way before, lovingly. Yet, the way Mickey responded was new to him. The way he threaded his fingers in his hair, bringing him closer. The way he moaned lowly against him also made him craving for more.

Just as he shifted above him, he heard the noise of neon lights being turned on. He parted from Mickey, frowning.

"What the -"

"Shit," Mickey cut him off. Ian walked backward, letting him stand up properly. Mickey adjusted himself in his pants, tucking his gray shirt back in properly. He licked his lips, watching Ian. The redhead mirrored his actions, adjusting his crumpled shirt. "Who's here?" he called out loud.

 

* * *

 

"Who the fuck is here?" he heard as an answer. Josh.

Mickey walked to the source of the noise, effectively seeing his co-worker. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question," the man retorted. He, then, made a face of understanding. Mickey looked behind him to see Ian had followed. "But I guess I have my answer."

"You don't know shit about me," Mickey told him. He sounded harsh despite trying to keep it to himself.

"How did you even get in?"

"I have the keys 'cause Ed actually trusts me," Mickey shot back. He knew he was on the defensive, but he couldn't care less. Feeling a hand settling on his small back surprised him, but he let it linger there. The touch was appeasing.

"Well, then you should know Tuesdays are delivery days and since it's 4:30 PM, the delivery guy will be there soon," Josh told him. Mickey squinted his eyes at him, not knowing whether to believe him. He hadn't worked Tuesdays for years, but why would Josh lie about that?

"Okay," he said at last. "We're going then," he told Ian. He grabbed his hand to lead him out of the bar. It reminded him of how Jay had laced his fingers with Rami's the night before, how envious he had been. Now though, he didn't think twice about doing this with Ian. He flashed a glance at the redhead, seeing a small smile creeping up on his face as he watched intently at their hands.

"Hey, I hope you cleaned up your mess!" Josh shouted. "I'm not wiping cum!"

"Don't you worry about it," Mickey said, snarky. "You didn't interrupt shit. Don't give yourself too much credit."

"Hoping so. I'll have to tell Ed otherwise," he said tilting his head now that the Milkovich man was looking at him.

"You do that and you'll regret it," Mickey whispered menacingly. He felt Ian pulling at his hand but right now, he didn't want to calm down.

"Regret it? As if someone like you could scare me."

"You should, though. I know more than you think," Mickey arched his eyebrows.

"Says the guys who don't know shit," Josh replied, clearly not believing him.

"Well, I'm sure the white powder in your pocket isn't flour or some shit," Mickey said at last.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Josh told him, but the expression on his face was a dead giveaway.

"See, Josh, one wrong move and you're out. You don't know what happened to the guy working here before you, do you?" When Josh shook his head no, he kept on. "He tried to fuck Ed and me up, just like you. He also understood that the tats aren't for show, alright?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Now that we're clear, don't talk shit about things you think you know, huh?"

"Okay," Josh agreed quickly.

"Come on, Ian," he told the redhead who was still holding his hand earnestly.

Once they were outside, Ian finally parted -- putting some distance between them.

"What was that about?"

"The guy is an asshole. Homophobic too, I guess. Plus, you fuck with Icarus, you fuck with me," Mickey explained, self conscious of his behavior. It was probably not the best aspect of his personality to show right now.

"Why haven't you gotten him fired already then?" Ian asked, walking back toward him.

"He's okay at his job."

"Only okay?"

"You don't know what I had to go through to get an okay co-worker. Too many bartender wannabes not even knowing how to mix the most simple drinks," Mickey told him.

"So you let him make his deals inside the bar," Ian provided.

"Not inside. Outside. When he's on break," Mickey corrected him.

"How do you know then?"

"I got eyes," he shrugged.

"Well, forget this part of our date, though."

"Yeah, I prefer what was happening right before," Mickey told him, closing the distance to peck shyly at Ian's lips. It wasn't like before. They were outside, in an alley, yes, but still outside for every person walking by able to see them. "Walking you home?"

"Sure," Ian smiled.

***

Mickey couldn't keep the smiles to himself as he walked down the streets with Ian by his side.

"So, what's your plans for tonight?" the redhead asked him when they reached their street.

"Coming out," he shrugged, waiting for Ian's reaction.

"Coming out? I assumed you were out," Ian quickly caught himself. He noticed how the man next to him froze.

"I am," he sort of reassured him. "Jay isn't."

"Oh, so he's gonna come out?" Ian asked.

"He wants to, at least. Jeremy and my sister are gonna come by tonight so, yeah. Let's see how it goes," he shrugged. He didn't know how the events would go. He knew the couple wasn't homophobic, but still. He was nervous as if he was the one coming out soon.

"They know about you, don't they?"

"They do," Mickey nodded, unlocking the door to their building.

"That shouldn't go bad then," he smiled warmly at him.

"Probably," Mickey agreed. When the elevator's doors closed to trap them, Ian approached him, putting his hand on his cheek, cupping his jaw.

"Why are you nervous, then?" he asked lowly, as if he was interrupting something.

"That's a discussion for another day," Mickey replied as lowly. He wasn't about to tell Ian that he was slightly hurt by this. He didn't know why, but the fact that Jay had never wanted to come out when they were sort of together had upset him. Knowing that after a single date with another man, he was ready to do it was even worse. He knew he should be happy for his best friend, especially knowing he had Ian as well. Still, he couldn't chase the feeling that he wasn't in control.

"Okay," Ian murmured softly, pecking his lips as if it was the normal thing to do.

When the doors opened, Ian led him throughout the hallway, and he noticed he'd been brought to his own floor -- not Ian's.

"Goodbye kiss?" Ian asked, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Didn't you get it in the elevator?" Mickey asked him, daring. He wouldn't mind tasting the redhead's lips again, but teasing him like this was better than agreeing so easily.

"Fine," he shrugged, starting to walk down the hallway back to the staircase.

"Hey, no," Mickey grabbed his arm. When he saw the huge grin on Ian's lips, he understood he'd been played with. He couldn't care less.

He put his lips on his, sneaking his tongue in his mouth once more that day. Ian pushed him against the door and brought his hands up to cup his jaw.

"Text me," he muttered against his lips. "Soon."

"Yeah," Mickey agreed, trying to collect himself when they parted. He stared at Ian's lips as he licked them.

"I'll be waiting to prepare you this promised food."

"Can't wait to taste it," Mickey joked.

"Come on. Go inside," Ian pushed him against the door. "Won't leave if you don't."

Mickey smirked, but unlocked his door. He waited by the door once he had entered. He watched Ian walking him.

"Stop staring, perv," Ian let out, not looking back. Mickey promptly closed the door.

***

[5:23 PM] Mickey Milkovich: Bring your ass over here tonight y'all. I only got a couple of beers left and a half bottle of whiskey. If you want something, bring it.

[5:26 PM] Jay Asher: I'm bringing vodka. I think I'll need it tbh.

[5:27 PM] Jeremy Asher: Stop it with the group messages already.

[5:27 PM] Mandy Milkovich: Stop it with the group messages already.

Mickey smiled at his phone dumbly. He thought about it before texting his sister back first.

[5:30 PM] Mickey Milkovich: You love me. Bring that pasta dish.

[5:32 PM] Mandy Milkovich: Not gonna cook for your sorry ass.

[5:34 PM] Mandy Milkovich: Jeremy said he'll cook something for you?? Since when does my boyfriend cook for my brother??

[5:36 PM] Mickey Milkovich: He's whipped. What do you think.

[5:39 PM] Mandy Milkovich: Urgh, don't talk about my bf like this. Not yours.

[5:42 PM] Mickey Milkovich: No worries. 8 okay?

[5:43 PM] Mandy Milkovich: Sure. Later.

[5:45 PM] Mickey Milkovich: You with her right now?

[5:48 PM] Jeremy Asher: Across the room, why?

[5:51 PM] Mickey Milkovich: Not gonna pop up the question tonight, are you?

[5:54 PM] Jeremy Asher: NO! And don't text me that, idiot!

[5:57 PM] Mickey Milkovich: Why are you cooking for me then???

[5:59 PM] Jeremy Asher: Not for you. For Jay. He'll be there, right?

[6:03 PM] Mickey Milkovich: Obviously, why?

[6:05 PM] Jeremy Asher: Miss him, that's all.

Mickey realized he'd been sprawled all over his couch for a good half hour. He shot a quick text to Jay before cleaning up his place a bit.

[6:08 PM] Mickey Milkovich: Call me when you're on break.

***

His phone got off over an hour after. He was in the middle of washing a couple of days' worth dishes. He hated doing this, and he was lucky enough that usually Jay did them.

He quickly dried his hands and accepted the call.

"Small shifts, no break," he was greeted with. He could hear the tiredness in his voice.

"Hello to you to," he chuckled in response.

"Hm, yeah, sorry. Hi," the other man said. He could hear the noise of the streets in the background.

"You good?"

"Nervous as fuck, but apart from that, yeah I'm good," he replied. He coughed a bit, before asking, "how was your date?"

"Good," he said, but even himself could hear the grin in his voice.

"Only good, huh? Tell me about it," Jay demanded.

"Well, what do you want me to say? We went out for lunch then went to Icarus," he shrugged as if he could be seen.

"You're hiding something. Icarus?"

"We went to play pool," he supplied.

"Pool? You barely know how to play."

"He's worst than me," he pointed out.

"Oh, so were there any other balls play involved?"

"Urgh, gross. That's even worse that his own puns," Mickey laughed nonetheless.

"You might have a thing for guys making disastrous puns, you know? And you didn't answer my question."

"No, we didn't have sex, if that's what you want to know. I don't even know why I'm telling you that, by the way," he sighed. He forgot his dishes for real to settle back on his couch.

"You're telling me 'cause I care. And also because I want you to be happy so if things got fucked up with him, I would've fuck him up," Jay replied seriously.

"He could take you," Mickey said without thinking.

"Yeah?"

"Probably yeah. He can manhandle me so easily, I don't know how he does that."

"Man - what?"

"I didn't say a thing," Mickey rushed to say.

"Mickey Milkovich, explain this to me," the younger man demanded once more, despite the laughter tainting his voice.

"We kinda made out and all," he gave in.

"See, was it that hard?" he asked him, genuine. "I'm happy for you, you know? I'm not 100% sure about this guy, but if you are, fuck it then."

"Thanks."

"You know what would make me even happier?"

"Shoot."

"If you buzzed me in. I'm downstairs."

"Idiot," Mickey muttered. He got up from the couch nonetheless and buzzed him in. Mickey unlocked his front door and went back to settle on the couch.

[7:26 PM] Ian Gallagher: Wish him luck for me.

[7:28 PM] Mickey Milkovich: Oh my God, are you stalking me?

"Irish Prince texting you already?" Jay asked as he relocked the door after him.

"Yup," Mickey replied, slightly frowning.

[7:29 PM] Ian Gallagher: No, why????

[7:30 PM] Mickey Milkovich: He literally just arrived.

"What does he say?" Jay coughed again, leaving his coat by the front door.

"He wishes you luck for tonight," Mickey mindlessly replied, eyes stuck to the screen -- awaiting for Ian's response.

[7:32 PM] Ian Gallagher: Coincidence? I'm waiting for my sister to arrive. Bored.

"You told him?"

"Yeah, wanted to know what I was doing tonight."

[7:33 PM] Mickey Milkovich: Weird.

"So, you decided to tell him. Without my accord?"

"Oh come on, man," Mickey said, finally standing up. "He literally listened to you pounding my ass. Why do you care if he knows whether you're out or not?"

"I don't. It's just... What if I can't do it?"

"You can do it. Stop thinking like this, fuckhead."

"Don't call me fuckhead."

"I'll stop if you finish these dishes," Mickey took this as an opportunity.

"You know," Jay started, walking toward the kitchen. "At some point, you won't have me to do your dishes."

"Yeah, but I'll have someone else to do them for me," he shot back, grinning. He walked to the sink to join him.

"Ian's not gonna do that for your sorry ass after a couple of dates," the younger man teased him.

"My ass is perfect. He'll do it if I ask him to."

"You're seriously thinking like this, you narrow-minded fuck?" Jay laughed.

"Hey," he slapped him on the shoulder. "I'm just joking, you know."

"You sounded serious, though. Like, him doing the dishes of a place you share and all," Jay kept on teasing him. Mickey felt his cheeks grew hotter. He splashed some water on Jay's face to distract him from the conversation they were having. "Oh, you didn't," he said slowly. Jay splashed from water on Mickey as well and with that, they were off.

They kept on throwing handful of water to each others, running around. When Mickey reached the couch, he grabbed one of the cushion to hit him with it.

They continued their battle for God-knows how long before Mickey heard the ringing of the door.

"Yo?" he said, pushing the button for the people waiting downstairs to hear him.

"Your beloved sister and loving brother-in-law are here," he heard Mandy's deformed voice say.

"Get in," he replied, pushing another button to let them in. "You're all wet," he told Jay.

"Same to you, buddy," Jay laughed.

In the meantime before the couple reached the 7th floor, they moped the water from the floor.

"Here," Mickey mumbled before throwing another cushion at Jay's face.

"Asshole," he muttered, not having been quick enough to catch it in time.

"What the ever-living-fuck?" They heard Mandy mutter when the couple entered.

"Jesus, guys. You're kids," Jeremy laughed. He went to the kitchen to put a dish on the counter.

"What is it?" Jay asked, interested and recognizing the smell.

"Guess," Jeremy only said. The Milkovich siblings were watching each others, having a silent discussion as to what was happening.

"You did not just make fucking lasagna?" Jay replied lowly, taking the lid off.

"Your favorite," Jeremy agreed.

Mandy watched them for a minute before saying, "Well, enough with the brothers bonding or some shit. Mick, got beers."

"Thank God," he muttered, grabbing the pack from his sister's hand.

***

"So, why are we here?" Mandy asked, the tip of her beer near her lips.

"Why? I need a reason to invite you shitheads to my place?" Mickey retorted, shifting on his seat on the floor. He'd let the couch for Jay and Mandy -- Jeremy being seated next to him on the floor.

"Hm, yes," she replied as if he was dumb. "You never organized shit, Mick."

"Yeah, 'cause I was still kinda settling here," he argued.

"Liar," she laughed. "There's something behind it." She turned toward Jay, leaning against the couch to approach him, "He's lying. There's something behind it."

Jay laughed at her. Mickey found it adorable to see her acting so casually with him. "You're right, he's lying."

"Hey!"

"There's something behind it," Jay continued despite Mickey's vain intervention. "I got something to tell you."

"Me?" she said, hand on her heart -- apparently touched by the words.

"Not you," he pointed at her. "You both," he corrected her.

"Really?" Jeremy asked, looking at Mickey for any kind of clue. He only shrugged as a response.

"Go ahead," he told Jay, who was squirming uncomfortably on the couch.

"So, hm," he coughed again. Mickey had noticed the cough, assuming he had caught a cold last night. Though, this one was the nervousness resurfacing. "I'm - hm... I'm gay?"

Mickey tried to hide his grin, looking for Jeremy's and Mandy's reactions. The face Mandy made was priceless. She shifted on the couch to its far end.

"You're what?" She repeated loudly.

"I'm gay," he said with more confidence this time.

"About time," Jeremy smirked.

"I know," he said, squirming on his seat.

"Well, cheers," Mandy said, grabbing her beer. "To the guy who's gonna be my bridesmaid at my wedding!"

"What did you just say?" Jeremy stopped her.

"Well, Mickey can't be my bridesmaid considering he'll walk me down the aisle. I needed someone else," she explained, shrugging.

"But why are you talking about weddings?" Jeremy panicked. Mickey wanted to tell him to calm down, that she didn't know a thing. That would be suspicious to act like this, though.

"I'm kidding, babe," she laughed. "You should teach your brother to get this stick out of his ass," she told Jay who almost spat his beer.

"Babe!" he argued.

"Aww, sweetie," she said, dragging herself out of the couch. She came to sit on his lap. "I'll take it out myself," she teased him. Mickey and Jay couldn't hold their laughter as Jeremy started tickling her sides. "To the newly gay!" She cheered for real this time.

"To the newly gay," they all repeated.

***

"I'm gonna put the dish in the oven. Heating it up a bit," Jeremy said, putting his beer down on the coffee table. "Mick, come with me," he added, looking at him intently.

"Hm, yeah sure," he said awkwardly. No one seemed to notice, though.

When they reached the kitchen, Jeremy faced him instantly, voice low. "It's him, isn't it?"

"What are you talking about?" Mickey asked genuinely confused.

"Mystery Man. It's my brother, isn't it?"

"Why would you think that?" he retorted.

"I've always thought it was a coincidence for your fuck buddy to have the same cologne as my brother, you know? Honestly, it could've been that," he laughed dryly. He shifted on his feet, apparently not knowing what to say. Mickey was left dumbfounded, not able to talk either. "But, I see you, guys. You're close, and yeah, it's definitely his scent we could smell on you all these months. Why didn't you tell us you were dating each others?"

"Because we're not dating," Mickey instantly said.

"Were, then?"

"We," Mickey started but sighed. He breathed in deeply before continuing. "We never dated each others, alright? Mystery Man was fuck buddy, nothing more."

"But I see how you two are with each others. Why didn't you say a thing?"

"Because he didn't want to," Mickey simply said. He could feel the lump in his throat. He didn't want the emotion to wash over him.

"There's someone else then," Jeremy provided.

"Yeah," Mickey nodded. "There's someone else. And he likes him enough to come out to you."

"I'm sorry -"

"You don't have anything to be sorry for."

"Everything's fine, guys?" Mandy shouted from her seat on the couch.

"Yeah," they said in unison. They squatted in front of the oven, pretending to actually do what they were supposed to.

"Really, Mick. I know how much you liked Mystery Man. You were in -"

"No. I've never been in love with your brother," he said, cutting him off mid-sentence. "We like each others, a lot. The word love has nothing to do with it."

Jeremy put his hands up in surrender. He felt his phone vibrating in his pocket.

[9:11 PM] Ian Gallagher: How many times a week can I be stand up by my own sister?

He hadn't realized a small smile had been creeping up on his face until Jeremy pointed it out.

"Who is it?" he asked him.

"Ian," he said. "The redhead from downstairs."

"Ah, interesting," Jeremy stood up, smiling. Mickey mirrored his actions, pocketing his phone. "Fuck buddy or more?"

"I'd say more since there's no sex involved yet," Mickey said without thinking.

"Careful with that, dude."

"With what?"

"Taking your time, huh?"

"Yeah."

"Just, don't fuck it up."

"I won't," he vowed. "Come on, let's go back," he continued. "Don't tell anyone about Jay and me, though."

"Promised," he smiled warmly at him.

***

"This is fucking delicious," Mickey said as he forked more of the lasagna in his mouth.

"Understand now why it's my favorite?" Jay quirked an eyebrow.

"Stop with the flirting, you two," Mandy joked, but the both of them froze. "Come on, I'm kidding," she added when she saw the faces they were making.

"Better be," Jeremy chipped in. "Not gonna cheat, huh?"

"Cheat?" she repeated. "Who?" she inquired for. Jeremy gave Mickey an evil smile, and the Milkovich man mouthed a 'I hate you' at him.

"Your brother and the redhead," he provided.

"You told him?" Jay asked, surprised.

"Wait, I'm the last one to know and he's my brother?"

"Hey, I'm not shouting on the rooftops that I went to my first date ever, alright?"

"He's so adorable," Jeremy awed.

"You're gonna regret this," Mickey told him as menacingly as possible. Though, he couldn't stop thinking about the weight in his pocket. He had felt his phone vibrate twice, and it could only be Ian.

"You used to scare me, Mickey. But frankly, your sister's scarier."

Mandy smiled proudly at her boyfriend, soon-to-be fiancé. "I take that as a compliment," she said. "How did it go, then?"

"Good," he replied. "It was good."

"Only good," Jay quirked an eyebrow, clearly referring to their previous conversation.

"Hey, you say shit and I tell them about yours," Mickey retorted, momentarily forgetting that Mandy didn't know about this detail. Jay's eyes went wide.

"His?" Mandy asked. "Oh my God, what's his name?!"

"Fuck," they both muttered.

"It's Rami. We work at the store together," he gave in.

"So he's the reason why you decided to come out, huh?" Jeremy asked, apparently forgetting about his and Mickey's conversation.

"Kinda, yeah," he looked down bashfully at his plate. "I think it was time for me to stop hiding." He looked meaningfully at Mickey, but the Milkovich man escaped his gaze to settle his own on Jeremy. Jay's older brother was looking at him apologetically.

Mickey waited a couple of long minutes before heading to the bathroom. The chatting had started back again, and Jeremy had been the only one looking at him leave.

He settled on his toilet, taking his phone out.

[9:26 PM] Ian Gallagher: Guess I'm just gonna be the old man reading himself to bed. Have fun up there.

[9:38 PM] Ian Gallagher: I have friends??? That's a surprise.

[9:53 PM] Mickey Milkovich: You know you're an idiot?

Mickey laughed wetly at his phone. He didn't even know why he was reacting like this to Jay's coming out. He knew he should be happy about it. Yet, the only thing making him remotely content was knowing Ian couldn't stop texting him.

[9:54 PM] Ian Gallagher: An idiot you like ;)

[9:56 PM] Mickey Milkovich: True.

[9:59 PM] Ian Gallagher: Everything's okay there?

[10:03 PM] Mickey Milkovich: A bit fucked up to see your ex fuck buddy coming out to your family because of a guy when he wasn't able to do it when we were kind of together. But I'll live.

[10:05 PM] Ian Gallagher: Shit. Wanna come by?

[10:07 PM] Mickey Milkovich: Not gonna ditch them in my own apartment.

[10:08 PM] Ian Gallagher: After if you want.

[10:09 PM] Mickey Milkovich: I'll keep that offer. Should head back, talk later?

[10:10 PM] Ian Gallagher: Head back?

[10:11 PM] Mickey Milkovich: Kinda locked myself in the bathroom.

[10:12 PM] Ian Gallagher: Oh. Later then.

***

The rest of the evening went well. Though, Mickey wanted to slap Jeremy in the face every time he gave him one of his apologetic look -- as if Mickey needed them.

Mandy made jokes again about getting them together, but they promptly reminded her that they were both starting a relationship -- with someone else.

It was barely after midnight when Jeremy said they should go home. He had to work in the morning, and with the boss he had, he needed to be fresh and on time.

"So, you saw Rami today?" Mickey tried to initiate some kind of non-awkward conversation with Jay once they were alone.

"Hm, no, actually." The younger man collected the plates from the table. "Stuff came up with his brother, got his shift covered."

"Everything's okay, though?"

"Yeah, he texted me earlier. It's fine," he brushed him off.

"Well, then," Mickey shrugged.

[12:11 AM] Mickey Milkovich: Sleeping?

[12:12 AM] Ian Gallagher: Can't knowing you weren't okay.

[12:14 AM] Mickey Milkovich: I am okay.

"Still texting Irish Prince?"

"Why do you stick with Irish Prince when Ian is so easier to say?" Mickey huffed.

[12:16 AM] Ian Gallagher: Well, gonna go to bed then. 'Night.

[12:17 AM] Mickey Milkovich: Stay up 15 more minutes.

"Because it reminds you of how you used to call him in your dreams," Jay teased him, poking his ribs.

"You're an asshole," Mickey sighed, putting his phone back in his jeans pocket.

"I know. Staying the night or am I being kicked out?" Jay asked, starting doing the dishes again.

"Stay if you want," Mickey told him, finishing a beer bottle that was on the coffee table. "Got the whole bed to yourself. I'm heading to Ian's."

"What? Like, right now?"

"Yeah, now," Mickey repeated. He grabbed his keys and walked to the door -- only to be interrupted.

"It's over midnight, Mick."

"Yeah, so? If you weren't crashing at my place, you wouldn't know about it," he spat despite himself. When he saw the face Jay was making, he hesitated. "I meant it. Stay here if you want," and with that, he was off the door.

 

* * *

 

Ian was bored again. He'd been replaying the events of the day in his head for hours now. He knew he shouldn't be jealous of what Mickey and Jay had, especially with what happened that day. Yet, he couldn't shake the feelings off.

He mindlessly grabbed his phone to shoot a quick text to Mickey. He couldn't start hating Jay like this, if he wanted more to happen with his neighbor.

[7:26 PM] Ian Gallagher: Wish him luck for me.

[7:28 PM] Mickey Milkovich: Oh my God, are you stalking me?

Ian was startled, to say the least. He'd stopped looking out the windows to catch a glimpse of Mickey weeks ago. He'd put an end to any kind of stalkerish tendencies he used to have.

[7:29 PM] Ian Gallagher: No, why????

[7:30 PM] Mickey Milkovich: He literally just arrived.

[7:32 PM] Ian Gallagher: Coincidence? I'm waiting for my sister to arrive. Bored.

[7:33 PM] Mickey Milkovich: Weird.

He played with his phone for a little while. He was a bit worried that he had no news from Debbie. He suspected her to not having warned him about having other plans.

***

[9:11 PM] Ian Gallagher: How many times a week can I be stand up by my own sister?

He knew Mickey was busy, yet he liked being able to send him messages. The other man probably didn't care, and didn't even see these messages. It made him feel better to write these down -- to talk to someone. He found himself liking the idea to share his feelings like this, voluntarily. With Shawn, he had needed to do it, for his own sanity. With Mickey, though, he wanted him to know everything there was to know about him.

[9:26 PM] Ian Gallagher: Guess I'm just gonna be the old man reading himself to bed. Have fun up there.

***

[9:36 PM] Shawn Thomas: Can I call you or busy busy with Mickey?

Ian put his book down, carefully marking the page before texting Mickey. Yes. Mickey. Again. He felt like keeping him in touch.

[9:38 PM] Ian Gallagher: I have friends??? That's a surprise.

He called Shawn, greeting him as soon as the line connected.

"Hey, man."

"How are you?" Shawn asked.

"Fine. Hm, where are you?" he could hear the noise from around Shawn.

"At a bar? I think. Sort of, actually. Called Icarus, wanna come by? I'm with Alisha and some of her friends," he offered.

"Oh, no, thanks," he responded. How small the world was. He toyed with the idea to go there, but he found himself not wanting to face Josh right now -- especially after what happened earlier that day.

"Sure?"

"Yeah, have fun," Ian concluded.

"Well, you'll tell me everything about your date tomorrow, huh?"

"What is there to say?" He feigned casualness.

"I don't know. You're the one who took the whole afternoon off for that," Shawn teased him. "Well, gotta go. This Freddie guy is fine."

"You're a slut," Ian laughed at his behavior.

"Look who's talking," his co-worker retorted. "See you tomorrow then."

"Yeah, tomorrow."

***

  
  


[9:53 PM] Mickey Milkovich: You know you're an idiot?

Ian found himself smiling at his phone when it buzzed on his bedside table. In the meantime, he had moved to his bed and the warmth of the covers.

[9:54 PM] Ian Gallagher: An idiot you like ;)

He plugged his phone, the warning 'ten percent battery remaining' stopping its flashing.

[9:56 PM] Mickey Milkovich: True.

He knew he was the one to kind of read between the lines. Yet, Mickey was the one to never let things left unsaid.

[9:59 PM] Ian Gallagher: Everything's okay there?

[10:03 PM] Mickey Milkovich: A bit fucked up to see your ex fuck buddy coming out to your family because of a guy when he wasn't able to do it when we were kind of together. But I'll live.

[10:05 PM] Ian Gallagher: Shit. Wanna come by?

[10:07 PM] Mickey Milkovich: Not gonna ditch them in my own apartment.

[10:08 PM] Ian Gallagher: After if you want.

[10:09 PM] Mickey Milkovich: I'll keep that offer. Should head back, talk later?

[10:10 PM] Ian Gallagher: Head back?

[10:11 PM] Mickey Milkovich: Kinda locked myself in the bathroom.

[10:12 PM] Ian Gallagher: Oh. Later then.

He laid in bed, trying to get some sleep in the meantime. His sleeping schedule had been kind of fucked up recently. He struggled, tossing and turning in bed. He bit his lip, hesitating once more.

At last, he got up, bringing the cover with him to settle on his couch. He quickly went back to his room to get his phone before settling properly against the black fabric. He turned on the TV, remembering where his hands had been hours before.

It was barely over midnight when he felt like nodding off. He tried to concentrate on what was happening on his TV screen, but the scenes of the show he was watching didn't match.

[12:11 AM] Mickey Milkovich: Sleeping?

[12:12 AM] Ian Gallagher: Can't knowing you weren't okay.

[12:14 AM] Mickey Milkovich: I am okay.

[12:16 AM] Ian Gallagher: Well, gonna go to bed then. 'Night.

[12:17 AM] Mickey Milkovich: Stay up 15 more minutes.

He sighed, wanting him to tell him he wouldn't be able to stay up 15 more minutes. His internal battle was put to an end when he heard someone knocking on the door. He dragged himself to the door, cover secured around him.

"Trying to look like a super hero with your cape?" Mickey told him first.

"Is that working?" He croaked before clearing his throat.

"Not so much," the other man smiled at him. "Not bothering you too much?"

"Nah, it's okay," he said, walking back toward the couch. He didn't spare Mickey a glance, but he heard him close and lock the door. The Milkovich man joined him near the couch. He took off his shoes and put his keys down on the coffee table.

"Come here," Ian said sleepily. He motioned for him to join him under the cover, to settle comfortably.

"What are we watching?" he asked. Ian kept his smile to himself at the use of 'we' instead of 'you'.

"Dunno about you, but I think I'm watching Breaking Bad. That okay?"

"Yeah, sure," Mickey agreed. He pressed himself even more against Ian. The redhead was trapped between the back of the couch and Mickey's whole body. He chanced a hand around the other man, hugging him from behind. He couldn't stop the grin from forming on his face when fingers laced with his.

"Want to talk about tonight?" he muttered.

"Want me to talk about it?"

"I don't know. It's up to you," Ian tried to shrug, but failed considering their position.

"I'm good now, let's stay good like this," Mickey concluded.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, please, don't fuck on pool tables. Or even sit on it. It's a pain in the ass to play on a table which is slightly inclined on one side.


	11. Seasons change, but people don't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, big note before starting. As usual, I'm apologizing for my lateness on this. Long story short: I wasn't okay and had a writer's block. Both are still going on but a special someone made me want to write today and, without knowing, helped me to complete this chapter. I don't know when I'll be updating -- here, or on jamiemrks, since I 'turned off' my blog.  
> So yeah, I won't be as present as before on Tumblr or here, but I'm trying to write. I promise I do.  
> Another thanks goes to Nuria for having read the first part of this chapter weeks ago, and having encouraged me all these weeks. Honestly, thank you, you're really too kind to me.

  _~ 6 weeks later ~_

"You're still smiling."

"Shut up, I'm not."

"Dude, you're putting books away in the religious section. And you're smiling. Admit it, you're thinking of him."

Ian sighed, and put one of the book down on the trolley. "I am."

"Ah-a!" Shawn made some little jumps around, earning himself a glare from someone working on a paper not far from them. "Shush, it's a library," he told them, a fake outrage expression on his features.

"You're an ass," Ian laughed quietly.

"They can fuck off if I'm too loud," he shrugged, walking slowly down the section and bringing the trolley with him. Ian dragged behind. "So, what did he do last night to make you smile like this?"

"Nothing, I'm just happy," Ian shrugged as well. Shawn gave him a stern look, waiting for more. "I don't know, man. I mean, stuff at work are good, my meds are good, my ankle as well -- turned out to be a bitch in the end. My boyfriend is good."

"Boyfriend, huh?" Shawn gave him a cheeky smile.

"Yeah, I mean... We've been seeing each other for over a month now."

"Did one of you ever say the b-word?"

Ian paused in his actions, clearly thinking about it. "Don't think so. Didn't mean to."

"Okay, I got you there," Shawn said – seeing the uncertainty on his friend's face. "What's the problem?" he asked him, plopping on the trolley and securing himself by grabbing the shelves on each of his sides.

"We only slept together once," he sheepishly said.

"And that was bad?" he provided.

"Hm, no, I meant. Slept, as in actually sleeping. We never – didn't –"

"Wait, you telling you two haven't had sex together yet?"

Ian's mouth twitched, "No. Not since, you know..." When Shawn looked down to his hands, thinking about how to approach the subject, Ian kept on. "I mean, we've got fucked-up schedules. He works nights, I work days."

"It never stopped you before."

"I don't wanna push him into having sex, man," Ian sighed. He gave up the task of putting books back to their places. He then sat down on the small stool they used to reach the higher shelves – not like Ian needed it anyways.

"So nothing happened between you two? I thought you told me it got hot and heavy on your first actual date."

"Yeah, it did. And there were more making out and some groping along the line. It never led to the getting rid of our clothes part, though."

"And you're horny," Shawn provided.

"Of course, I am! You've seen him," the redhead laughed dryly. "I feel like I'm gonna come within seconds like a fucking teenager when we'll finally do it," he huffed.

"Don't worry about that," Shawn laughed, hopping off of the trolley – going back to work.

"Anyways, stop talking about that," Ian shrugged him off, looking at the books intently.

"Why? Afraid you might pop a boner just thinking about it?" Shawn laughed, brushing past him.

"Might as well," he sighed again, looking down at his crotch. Fuck. He just wanted to spend the night with Mickey, breathe in his scent while being buried deep down inside of him. Feeling his sweaty skin and hearing those labored breaths. He just wanted to touch more of him, to make him writhe beneath him –

"You're drifting," Shawn cut him off mid-fantasy, an apologetic smile creeping on his face.

"Shit," he muttered, adjusting himself in his pants. "So, what about you?" he asked, trying to stop thinking about Mickey and what he must be doing on his day off. "Someone around?"

"Few _someones_ ," he shrugged.

"Few? Who?" he inquired. He got up from the stool to reach his friend – not wanting to talk too loudly.

"Some girls," he dismissed him.

"Girls?" Ian frowned, making him look at him.

"Hello, bisexuality over here," Shawn motioned for himself.

"I didn't know that."

"I never told you."

"But how – I mean," Ian stammered not knowing exactly what he was about to ask. "For years," he finally let out.

Shawn smiled lightly at him. "I'm more into guys than chicks, that's all. I actually haven't been with a girl for a couple of years, I think. I just felt like playing for that team again for a little while, that's all."

"So, just like that?"

"Just like that," he confirmed him. Ian could sense he wasn't telling him everything.

"What's her name?"

"Zoey," he gave in easily.

"And?"

"And what? What do you want me to say?"

"I don't know, man. We used to tell each other everything. Tell me about her."

"She's one of Alisha's friends. I met her last time we went out for a drink at that bar," he explained. “Nothing happened between us, but you know, I felt that vibe. Been a long time since I haven’t felt it with a chick.”

“You’re gonna see her again?”

“I hope so,” he replied honestly. “Alisha’s throwing a party next week and I think she’ll be there.”

“Oh, nice,” the redhead mindlessly answered. He looked for the emplacement of the book he was gripping at.

“Shit,” Shawn muttered.

“What?”

“Don’t mope! She invited you. Well, she told me to invite you and I guess it kinda slipped my mind?” the blond man tried to smile apologetically at him like a child caught right before making silly things.

“I’ll see if I can go, depends.”

“Depends on what? Mickey?”

“Not particularly but, yeah.”

“And when will I finally meet this guy. Properly.”

“Hm, I don’t know,” Ian shifted uncomfortably. He grabbed the handle of the trolley and strolled to the next section, promptly ignoring him.

“Hey, man stop,” Shawn tried. The student working on his paper glared at him once more, sighing heavily. “Oh please, if I’m annoying you that much go in another section!”

The young man was ready to answer him, but Shawn turned around and walked to Ian, who seemed engrossed in his duty for once.

“You told him about me, right?” he asked.

“Of course,” Ian brushed him off.

“What did you _actually_ tell him?”

“He knows you and I used to, you know. He knows about that, don’t worry.”

“So what’s the problem?” Shawn asked, genuinely confused. He leaned against the shelf to get a look at the torn expression on the freckled face.

“It’s a bit weird to hang out with your sort of boyfriend and your ex fuck buddy, you know? I mean, it’s like going out with the actual ex and the new boyfriend. You gotta understand that it’s awkward, right?”

“Yeah, but isn’t it what he is doing with that guy?”

“Who, Jay?”

“Yeah. Why, there’s another one?” His eyebrows shot slightly higher on his forehead.

“No, but that’s different. Jay and him, it’s different.”

“You don’t even seem to believe it yourself.”

“They’ve known each other for way longer than us, their relationship is just different. I can’t tell him to stop hanging out with him.”

“Why, afraid he’ll choose him over you?”

A beat passed before Ian quietly replied, “he might.”

***

At lunch, Ian decided – for once – to stop being his socially awkward self and accepted the invitation for lunch from the girls at work. It felt weird to be sitting at a diner’s booth with Alisha, Lydia and Shawn – yet he didn’t mind the idea of being with them and hanging out with more people.

Even though Alisha had had her suspicions for a while, Ian had only come out to her a couple of weeks prior – Mickey’s name appearing in their conversation.

“So, you’re going to Mickey’s tonight?” Shawn asked him, playing with a French fry. Today was a Jay and Mickey day. Mickey had warned him that they would spend the day together, probably watching crappy movies, eating too much junk food and _‘complaining about the guys in our lives’_ – though, the smirk and the peck on the lips Ian had received afterward clued him to thinking not much complaining would come from Mickey’s end.

“I don’t know yet. He’s spending the day with Jay,” he replied casually. “His best friend,” he added for the girls.

“Isn’t he gay as well?” Alisha frowned. Ian glared at Shawn, but the blond only put his hands up in mock surrender.

“Yeah, he is,” he muttered, taking a sip from his coke.

“Aren’t you jealous?” she let out.

“Of course I am!” he snapped without meaning to. The pair would be the end of him.

“Why don’t you tell him, then?” She asked as if it was the simplest thing to do. It reminded him of his previous conversation with the blond man.

“Mickey cares about this guy – way too much, in my opinion,” Shawn replied for him.

“Give him a break,” Ian told him.

“Yeah, give _him_ a break,” Lydia repeated, tilting her head toward Ian. “No wonder he never comes to eat with us if he’s being interrogated every time he does.”

“Thank you, Lydia,” he sighed gratefully.

“Though, they’re right,” she shrugged. At Ian’s glare, she added, “but that’s all I’m gonna say. Who’s gonna order dessert?”

***

[1:20 PM] Mickey Milkovich: You coming later?

[1:31 PM] Ian Gallagher: Sure.

“Hey,” he heard softly next to him. He quickly pocketed his phone. “I just want to apologize for earlier. Twice.”

“It’s okay,” Ian brushed him off.

“No, really. I probably sounded like an ass,” Shawn babbled. When Ian shot him a glare, he kept on, “which I am. No, but honestly, I don’t want you to get hurt. That’s all.”

“I know. But I don’t need you to look out for me like this, Shawn. I can take care of myself.”

“Just –“

“Don’t,” Ian cut him short, probably thinking about these late nights when he’d had no one to call when his meds weren’t working perfectly.

“Just, know that I’m here, alright?” He told him. “Not in any sexual way or anything. I’m here if you need someone, period.”

“Okay.”

“I brought this, this morning,” he tried to sound nonchalant, but Ian could hear the nervousness in his voice. The man handed him a blank DVD case. “ _Saw_ ,” he said. “The sixth. I think you told me he was into horror movies or some shit and I found this one last night at my place. Just thought about lending it to you.”

“Thanks, man,” Ian smiled genuinely at him. Shawn wanted them to work almost as much as Ian wanted to.

 

* * *

 

“So, what’s your excuse?” were Mickey’s first words when he opened the door. It was nearly 11 AM already.

“Excuse?” Jay repeated, pushing his way into Mickey’s apartment.

“For not being at work nor school on a Tuesday,” Mickey snorted, relocking the door before following him.

“I already told you,” the younger man frowned, plopping on the couch as if he belonged here – he did, a bit.

“No, you didn’t.”

“We’re not gonna play ‘I told you, no you didn’t’, check your texts,” Jay sighed, getting rid of his shoes.

Mickey fumbled around to find his phone. When he did, he scrolled up his conversation thread with Jay to find the said texts. “Oh, right,” he muttered when he found a text saying, “ _Guess whose lecturer will be at a conference next Tuesday and who’s in need of days off at work??_ ”

“See?”

“Yeah, I guess I was busy when you sent this.”

“I guess, yeah. Since you replied non-sense half an hour afterwards. It seems fair, though.”

“What seems fair?” Mickey was confused. Was it the lack of sleep or was Jay actually shitting with him?

“I assume you were with Ian. Meaning, seems fair for you to reply shit when I’m bothering you. You should say so, though. You know, letting me know I’m interrupting something,” he grinned at him.

“You didn’t interrupt shit,” Mickey snorted, making his way to the kitchen. He came back with two beer bottles in hand. “Shove over,” he grunted before jumping gracelessly on the couch next to his best friend.

“Already with the beers?”

“Yeah, got a problem with that?”

“No, I guess the harder liquor will follow in the afternoon then?” Mickey gave him a stern look. “And no, I don’t have a problem with that. Not at all.”

***

[1:20 PM] Mickey Milkovich: You coming later?

“Ian?” Jay asked when he came back from the bathroom. The take out were plastered all over the coffee table along few empty beer bottles. The whiskey one sat mostly full on the corner.

“Yup,” Mickey replied, grabbing one of the boxes. “Putting on that movie or what?”

“Depends, can I drunkenly rant in the middle of it?”

“Sure you can,” Mickey smiled at him, pressing play. “What do you wanna rant about? Rami?”

“Yeah,” he croaked after swallowing his bite of food.

“Here,” Mickey said, handing him the bottle of harder liquor. “We both need it.” Jay frowned at him, but accepted the offer. He took a couple of gulps, burning his throat. His eyes never left Mickey’s.

[1:31 PM] Ian Gallagher: Sure.

“I got something else, if you’re up for it,” Mickey arched an eyebrow.

“Shoot,” Jay grinned at him, knowing whatever Mickey had in mind would probably get them to a next level of numbness.

“Be right back,” Mickey ushered to his bedroom. He came back not even a minute after, waving a small baggie of white powder.

“No shit,” Jay grinned, astonished.

“I bet it’s good quality.”

“Haven’t tasted it yet?”

“Nope, stole it last night.”

“Since when do you steal coke?”

“Since my dumbass coworker thinks it’s smart to make his deal in my bar.”

“It’s not your bar,” Jay told him.

“Whatever, want some?”

“Sure,” the younger man agreed.

Mickey got to the coffee table, preparing a couple of lines to start off with.

***

Half a bottle of whiskey, too many lines of coke and about a film-length long later, their feet were tangled over the coffee table. The empty boxes had fallen to the floor, for the most of them. Mickey was half sprawled on the couch, his head near Jay’s shoulder – still nursing the bottle of dark liquor.

“I mean, I don’t understand him,” Jay sighed, eyes fixed on the screen without really watching the movie.

“Me neither, seriously. You want a guy, do him? I don’t know,” he slurred a bit.

“Like, am I not attractive or some shit?” Jay surged, making Mickey move slightly on the other end of the couch.

“Sure, you are.”

“I know,” he dismissed him, clearly upset. “I get that he’s living with his brother and that it would be awkward for him to walk in on us or some shit, but hello, it’s _their_ apartment, not his brother’s.”

“Yeah, and I mean, we’ve been in this for what, a month? And we’d already had sex before even starting dating? Why won’t he just fuck me?” Mickey retorted. They were both barely aware that they weren’t exactly on the same page as to who they were talking about, but that didn’t seem to bother them.

“Right? And it’s not like I can bring him to my parents or some shit?”

“I don’t get it either.”

“And sure, I’m not a teenager anymore–”

“Yeah, me neither,” Mickey interrupted.

“But that doesn’t mean I’m not horny,” he finished as if it was question. Maybe it was.

“Yeah! And the making out sessions, and the groping and all? Like, you’re blue balling me, dude,” Mickey complained.

“What?” Jay finally turned toward him. It snapped in his brain. How he had unintentionally leaned forward, how Mickey was sprawled on the couch and himself nearly laying on top of him.

“I’m fucking horny,” Mickey said questioningly as well.

Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the coke, or maybe the horniness. Yet, at the moment their lips connected harshly and their hands moved quickly on their clothes, nothing mattered more than getting off. Mickey pushed the other man against the back of the couch, getting rid of his t-shirt at the same occasion. A knee on each of his sides, he sat on the other man’s lap. He could feel hands tugging at his own clothes, but his brain couldn’t focus on this. All his attention was on the tongue playing in his mouth, the teeth biting teasingly at his lip.

He mindlessly roamed his hands on the man’s torso, nearing the waistband of his jeans. When the top button popped open, he felt fingers making their ways into his own pants. He heard moaning, but he didn’t know if the sounds even came from his throat. He messily got up, his sweatpants pooling at his feet before he went back to his original position. His t-shirt was torn off before lips reconnected.

Automatically, one of his hand went back south, cupping the bulge tenting the boxers. His other hand gripped at the man’s neck, almost bruising.

The hands went back to his ass cheeks, cupping them before lowering the fabric of his boxers. Breathless, he parted from the kiss. His ears were buzzing, the alcohol and drug making it hard for him to properly focus on what was happening.

He gasped, though, when a wet finger teased his hole. It didn’t last long before he pushed against it – craving for more.

He grunted when another one quickly followed. Fingers scissored within him, pushing in and out insistently. His mouth found the other man’s again. He needed more, he wanted more. He wasn’t even kissing him properly. Lips were against his own, but he only breathed in the other man’s mouth – biting down his lips from time to time.

“Fuck,” he breathed against the other man. His hand left the hard-on he was touching mindlessly, to crawl upward. He laced his fingers behind the man’s scalp, scrapping the thin skin of his fingers against the hair.

Everything happened in slow motion in his own mind. It wasn’t normal. It wasn’t natural.

He moaned louder when the fingers crooked inside of him.

“Fuck, Ian,” he breathed almost painfully. And suddenly, every action seemed to happen faster than what Mickey’s brain could comprehend. The hair. It was too smooth, he couldn’t feel the roughness of curly hair cropped short. The breathing. He knew this breathing, but this wasn’t Ian. He realized he had closed his eyes. When he opened them, he didn’t see freckles like he wished he would have. They both stilled in their actions.

“Shit,” the other man said, waking the both of them up.

“Fuck,” Mickey almost shouted, jumping backward and landing on the coffee table. He took the scene in. Jay was sitting on his couch, no shirt on, a visible bulge in his open jeans. His lips were swollen, and the familiar redness on his neck and cheeks was present.

Mickey felt naked to the world when he realized only his junk was covered. He still felt his asshole throbbing, awaiting for more. He wanted to cry out of rage – angry toward himself.

He saw the panic appear in Jay’s eyes as well, having followed the understanding. He shot up from his seat, grabbing his shirt on the way.

“Nothing happened,” he stammered. He wanted to put his shirt on in such a hurry that he lost even more time – getting it tangled.

“Yeah,” Mickey managed to let out after a moment. Jay had probably already left by then.

***

Mickey stayed there who-knew how long. He had just put his boxers back on properly. Running his hands on his face, then hair, he took the scene in. His apartment looked like an after party: boxes scattered on the floor, the mirror having joined them. His credit card was near what was left of the coke, pack of smokes and liquor nearby as well.

Why did he do this? He just wanted to go back to this morning, enjoying his day off with his best friend, knowing his boyfriend would come around by the end of the day. But who was he kidding? Was Jay even his best friend? Was Ian his boyfriend?

He sighed once more, the tears of frustration filling his eyes.

He cared too much about Ian. He knew they had their stuff going on for not that long, but he liked him. Much to the point where he had silently agreed to this: waiting the right time to have sex. He had known it would be a bad idea, for the both of them. They weren’t the type to wait when they wanted something, so why had he brought up this theory? He had dug his own grave with this.

He just wanted to lay in bed with him, having the redhead buried deep inside of him while breathing in his scent. Was it too much to ask? Was it too complicated for Mickey Milkovich to not fuck up things when they looked good for him?

A buzzing sound woke him out of his reverie. He looked around for his phone, only to find he had no new text or missed phone call whatsoever. His eyes wandered to where Jay had been sat, seeing his phone there.

[4:59 PM] Rami Davis: My brother wants to properly meet you. You free tomorrow after work?

[5:00 PM] Rami Davis: Oh, and say hi to Mickey for me!

And if he hadn’t felt shitty before, he definitely did now.

***

Shaking his head, he realized it wouldn’t be long before Ian would come off work. He gathered his thoughts and started cleaning around. He piled up the boxes and put them near the door for when he would leave. He grabbed the baggie and didn’t hesitate a second before flushing down the toilet what was left of the coke. Mirror and credit card cleaned, he put them back to their places. The beer bottles joined the empty boxes, while the Jack Daniels went back to the kitchen cupboard.

He stood in the middle of his apartment, looking for any remains of what had happened. If only he could erase the faint memory from his brain, he would.

Sniffing at himself, he smelled sweat and sex. He collected his clothes from the small space between the couch and the coffee table before heading for a shower.

***

The hot water made him drift. It made him sick in the stomach to remind himself of how good it had felt when his brain had filled in the fantasy of Ian doing this to him, only for reality to be blown up in his face quickly afterwards.

He scrubbed every inch of his body, wanting to get rid of Jay’s scent on him – maybe if the scent disappeared, what he did would follow. Letting out a deep breath, he leaned forward, his forehead against the coldness of the steel bar holding the showerhead.

He let the cooling water hit the top of his head and his back. His eyes were fixed at this feet, on the way the bubbles of shampoo and shower gel disappeared down the drain – by-passing his feet to reach their destination. Maybe if he did that, by-passing the problem, he would reach his destination as well. But that wasn’t that easy, was it?

The loud knock on the door finally made him move.

“It’s open,” he shouted, turning off the water. Shaking his head like a dog would do, he stepped out of the shower. He was reaching for a clean towel when he heard him.

“I could be a serial killer, and you tell me that’s open? Not smart, Mickey.” Ian’s voice was louder than the tone the other man usually used. He had probably looked throughout the living room and hadn’t caught the sight of his sort of boyfriend.

Mickey secured the towel around his waist before opening the door. Surely, Ian was in his living room, putting something down the coffee table.

“Who tells me you’re not _actually_ a serial killer?” He teased him. The redhead turned around, and the grin he shot him was priceless. If Mickey was a teenage girl, he would probably say that it gave him butterflies in his stomach. But Mickey wasn’t a teenage girl. He was a grown-up man, knowing he had fucked up. He didn’t know if the reaction was due from his own guilt or if Ian had always made him feel this way.

“Serial killers don’t get attached.” The smile was still there as he walked up to him.

“Oh yeah? And you’re attached here?” Mickey dared to ask. It was easier to play this game.

“Mhm,” Ian hummed, agreeing. He settled his hands on Mickey’s hips. Yet, there was nothing sexual about it. Mickey didn’t know how Ian managed to do this: the touches.

The smile on Ian’s lips turned shy before he leaned forward, pecking softly Mickey’s lips. The Milkovich man responded to the kiss, lacing his arms around Ian’s broad shoulders.

A short moment after, Ian parted. “You should probably brush your teeth as well,” he told him. At Mickey’s confused expression, he pecked his lips once more with affection. “Your breath smells like a bar. Alcohol and cigarette.”

“Oh,” Mickey only let out. The carelessness hit him as if Ian had noticed something else while kissing his lips. Ian, though, took the small panic for embarrassment.

“I’ll let you finish and make myself at home,” he told him, kissing him shortly once more before walking backward to the living room.

Mickey smiled shyly at him before promptly go brushing his teeth. He even used mouthwash. Just in case.

 

* * *

 

Ian sat down on Mickey’s couch, moving the cushions a bit to make himself comfortable. He listened to Mickey finishing in the bathroom, listened to him padding to his bedroom, listened to the sounds the drawers made and the ones the wardrobe doors made as well. He liked recognizing these sounds, as if it was normal for him to be here and to know which sound belong to which furniture.

His eyes roamed around the apartment, seeing it cleaner than usual. Mickey and Jay must have been up to something if the number of bottle beers by the front door was any sign.

He kicked his shoes off before sitting cross-legged. Mickey joined him not long after.

“So, how was your day?” he asked him when Mickey sat close to him.

“You know the thing about what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas?” the other man said.

“Yeah,” he let out, suspicious.

“Can I use ‘what happens in my apartment between Jay and me, stays in my apartment between Jay and me’?”

“Hm, sure,” Ian agreed. He didn’t know if it was any good, but Mickey clearly seemed upset about what had happened earlier that day.

He seemed tired as well.

“Shawn gave me this today,” Ian offered, grabbing the DVD case from the coffee table.

“Shawn _Shawn_?” Mickey asked, taking the offered object.

“Don’t judge him or get jealous,” Ian sighed.

“I have no reason to be, so why would I?” he said, matter-of-factly.

“I don’t know,” Ian shrugged.

“So, Saw?” He wondered, inspecting the case’s content.

“The 6th.”

“You think you’re up for it?” Mickey seemed to ease up. Ian wasn’t really keen on these kind of movies. He wasn’t afraid of them, he had seen worse – question of point of view – in real life. He just found them gross for no reason.

“Sure.”

“Okay, then,” Mickey huffed as he pushed himself up. He put on the DVD and grabbed the remote.

When he came back to the couch, he laid down on the remaining part, his head against Ian’s chest – from the way Ian had sprawled himself over the end of the couch.

Ian didn’t like watching a chick cutting off her own arm for some stupid game, but if it was part of why Mickey was relaxing against him, he could put up with it.

***

“Sleepyhead,” he heard next to his ear. The warm breath against his skin was oddly enjoyable. He moaned and stretched his limbs without moving too much. When he opened his eyes, he saw Mickey’s face close to his, illuminated by the faint light of the credits rolling on the TV screen. “I’ve never seen someone falling asleep in front of Saw.”

“I guess I was comfy,” Ian said, but it only got out as a whisper. Noticing his arms were wrapped around Mickey, he tightened his grip around him.

“How was your day?” Mickey asked. The expression on his face was screaming for any type of conversation happening right now.

“Not bad. Ate with everyone at the diner, so you can’t say I’m socially awkward anymore,” he said lightly, craving for Mickey to relax again.

“Once won’t make you not socially awkward, Ian,” Mickey laughed bit, though. Better than nothing, Ian told himself.

“I know,” he muttered, stroking Mickey’s hair backward. “Shawn asked if you were my boyfriend.”

“He what?” Mickey moved backward, putting some distance between them. Ian’s hands were still framing his face, but at least, he could look at him in the eye. “He wants his turn maybe? Well, he won’t have it!”

“Hey, calm down.” Ian caressed his cheeks soothingly. He was kind of surprised to have this kind of reaction from Mickey, making him like it even more than if it had been expected. “He wants what’s best for me, because he’s my friend. I’m sure Jay didn’t talk high of me at first, right?”

“Yeah,” Mickey reluctantly agreed.

“So that means I’m taken?”

“Of course you’re fucking taken,” Mickey retorted. Ian knew a grin was creeping up on his face, but he couldn't stop it from blooming right here.

“Can I call you my boyfriend, then?”

“Don’t push it,” Mickey laughed, but laid back down nonetheless.

“Will my boyfriend make me some dinner since I was at work all day?” He kept on his teasing, feeling Mickey relaxing again.

“You got a boyfriend, not a wife,” Mickey shot back, a teasing tone tainting his voice as well.

“Fair enough,” Ian laughed.

***

Despite Mickey claiming they had eaten late and way too much, Ian couldn’t stop the worry from filling his brain as he ate some leftovers he had found in Mickey’s fridge.

The worry was like a small ticking sound in the back of his mind when Mickey didn’t talk much in front of the shitty show they were watching.

It didn’t stop either when he realized the show was about to end, meaning he would be going home soon – leaving Mickey by himself in his sort of moping.

“I should probably go,” he offered weakly when the ads appeared on the screen.

“No,” Mickey stopped him from getting up. “Stay the night,” he almost sounded like he was begging him to stay. The hand gripping his wrist moved to lace their fingers together. Mickey got up and turned off the TV.

He silently led him to his bedroom, closing the door behind them – probably out of habit.

“Does that mean…,” the redhead started, knowing Mickey would catch on his train of thoughts.

“No, we’re just gonna sleep, Ian,” he said in a sigh. He sounded even more exhausted. Ian was the one with bipolar disorder, yet, the mood swings Mickey was showing for the last hours made him wonder what was up with him – yet again.

He watched him stripping down to his boxers before mimicking him. He awkwardly settled on the other side of the bed, under the thick covers.

It didn’t take long before Mickey moved closer. He threw a leg just above Ian’s crotch and an arm around his waist to hold him close.

“Are you okay?” Ian whispered, feeling the way Mickey’s heart beat.

It took a long minute before he heard, “no.”

He didn’t know if he should push it, but he did anyway. “Want to talk about it?”

It took longer for another “no” to leave Mickey’s throat.

“Okay,” he said then, stroking Mickey’s back. He wanted to tell him it was okay to talk to him, but that it was also okay to not talk. That he was there for him anyways.

“Thank you,” he heard next.

“For what?” Ian asked, genuinely wondering why. He turned his head to look down at Mickey. Their faces were close, and he couldn’t stop his eyes from glancing down to his lips for a split second.

“Sticking around,” he told him softly.

A smile flashed on Ian’s lips, disappearing as quickly as it had appeared. It was Mickey who closed the distance between them. He tentatively put his lips on his.

He didn’t know what to do, if it was okay to push for more or if he should let Mickey take the lead. He decided the latter was the best option. He let Mickey peck his lips softly, over and over again.

His arms brought him flush against him, and he could feel Mickey’s hand creeping up his neck to settle on his jaw.

Mickey’s tongue licked the seam of his lips open. It was a silly reaction, but Ian’s breath caught in his throat when their tongues met. It wasn’t the first time they did this, and probably wouldn’t be the last. But, it was the first time Mickey was the one initiated such kisses. If Ian was a real optimistic, he would say these were love kisses – with real love behind them. He wasn’t, though. So, he settled for affectionate kisses. The ones where you show how much you care for someone, but without any words needed.

This was exactly what Mickey was doing, if he needed to guess. Mickey was gentle, focusing on kissing him with the rest of his body being still.

When he shifted, Mickey pushed his thigh against Ian’s groin. That was when the redhead felt he had grown hard from this. He instantly flushed with embarrassment, knowing these kisses weren’t leading to more than just that – his dick didn’t get the memo apparently.

“Sorry,” he muttered sheepishly. Their foreheads were touching. Mickey’s eyes closed, before he let out an almost imperceptible sigh.

“That’s okay,” he said lowly before shifting back to his early position. He snuggled even more against Ian, and the redhead wouldn’t complain.

He hugged him tighter. It was easier to fall asleep holding someone. 

 

* * *

 

Mickey woke up to something warm crowding him. It took him a minute or so to realize this something was actually Ian. He lazily smiled, barely shifting to not wake the other man up. Ian was sprawled almost all over him, octopus-like.

He glanced at the alarm clock he had bought not so long ago. It was easier to see what time it was like this, not blinding himself with his phone in the middle of the night.

It wasn’t 6 AM yet, but Ian was still snoring lightly against him.

Then, he remembered. The guilt. He didn’t know if Ian was better not knowing or if he should tell him, be honest. He hadn’t meant for it to happen, and with the look Jay had had on his face, the other man hadn’t meant for it neither.

They had just been horny. But this wasn’t an excuse, and he sadly knew it.

He lightly shook Ian awake.

“Hey, wake up,” he murmured in his ear. Ian groaned and moved to the other end of the bed, ignoring him. “You’re not gonna get away with it,” he told him, following him. He spooned him from behind. “It’s nearly six,” he said in his ear.

“Already?” he croaked, only opening a single eye.

“Yeah,” Mickey confirmed.

“Fuck, my meds,” Ian shot up. He stood up too quickly, if Mickey had to guess why he was waiting by the bed, motionless.

“Go get them,” he told him, standing up behind him. He caressed his sides gently. “I’ll make breakfast.”

“You do?”

“If eggs and toasts are okay, sure,” Mickey shrugged.

“Thank you,” Ian smiled sleepily at him. He approached him to kiss his neck, before muttering in his ear, “You’re awesome.”

He watched Ian slowly getting dressed before throwing his own t-shirt on.

***

They had breakfast together, but Mickey didn’t talk much. His mind was racing, should he tell Ian or not? Ian might had caught on, if the worried glances toward him were any sign. He couldn't let him know already.

It made him sick inside when Ian left for work and kissed him goodbye. He went back to bed, out of habit. He knew he wouldn’t last long tonight if he didn’t get some more sleep.

***

When he got up at around 10 AM, the first thing he noticed in his apartment was Jay’s phone – or the lack of it thereof. He was sure he had put in on the kitchen bench, and that Ian or himself hadn’t moved it. Lost for lost, he tried texting it.

[10:11 AM] Mickey Milkovich: Did you get your phone back?

[10:16 AM] Jay Asher: Yeah, I came by after Ian left. I didn’t want it to be awkward to see him or for him to know I have a key to your place.

[10:18 AM] Mickey Milkovich: Ok.

[10:20 AM] Jay Asher: We need to talk, Mick…

[10:24 AM] Jay Asher: Meet me for lunch or something?

[10:34 AM] Jay Asher: I can come by if you want.

[10:36 AM] Mickey Milkovich: Don’t. I’ll meet you at college around noon. That okay?

[10:37 AM] Jay Asher: Sure.

***

It was awkward, to say the least, to see each other after what had happened. They were grown-up men, they should deal with it as such instead of letting the awkwardness fill in for them.

“So, what do we do?” Jay asked before biting in his hamburger. Mickey was still toying with his fries, not knowing if he hadn’t any appetite or if the guilt was stronger than anything else.

“I don’t know about you, but I think I’ll tell him. He doesn’t deserve that,” he finally said after a beat. He chanced a look at Jay. The other man hesitated.

“I don’t know if it’s a good idea. I don’t think I’m gonna tell Rami. He’ll get suspicious of you afterwards.”

“And you think Ian won’t?”

“Not so sure.”

“You don’t know him like I do,” Mickey defended him. “I can’t lie to him like this. He’s _that_ good, you know?”

“Yeah,” Jay sighed, putting his burger down.

“I think we should stop seeing each other,” Mickey finally offered.

“We’re not _seeing_ each other,” the younger man reminded him.

“We are. As friends. I think we should stop for a while. It’s just – I don’t want _us_ to fuck up my relationship with Ian.”

“Oh,” Jay seemed a bit taken aback by Mickey’s words. “Okay. Me neither, you know.”

“I guess it’s better for the both of us to use some time apart. It’s not as easy to go from fuck buddies to friends like we thought after all, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So friends? But, not seeing each other for a little while, okay?”

“Sure. What do we tell Jeremy and Mandy?”

“We don’t tell them shit. If they throw parties or whatever, I’ll go. If we see each other, good. But that’s it. Only pure coincidence, not arranged coincidence. Right?”

“Got it.”

“Fine.”

A silence settled between them, Mickey watching Jay eat. He had barely touched his own food, but he started to feel the hunger, so he reluctantly reached for it.

***

This back and forth in Mickey’s brain lasted for a couple of days. Ian had weekends off, so he spent as much time as possible with Mickey during the day.

Mickey knew he had to say something. He was tired of the looks Ian was throwing his way and the constant guilt he felt, so he engaged in the territory of a conversation he didn’t want to have, but needed to.

“You know, I get why you don’t want Shawn and I to meet,” he started off awkwardly. “It’s hard to act like friends when there’s been more between two people, right?”

“What are you talking about?” Ian asked, putting his book down, carefully marking the page.

“I mean,” he shrugged. He wanted Ian to understand so badly. “It’s hard to act like best friends without crossing any borders.”

“Is that about Jay?” he asked again, worried. Then, the worry disappeared to let anger show on his features. “I don’t want to know, right?”

“You don’t,” Mickey shook his head.

“I should go,” Ian sighed, getting up.

“Please, don’t,” Mickey begged him.

“What?” Ian snapped. “You have sex with your best friend while dating _me_ and we don’t even sleep together because _you_ want to take it slow. You clearly need time, Mickey.”

“I was drunk and high and horny!” he tried to justify himself.

“High?”

“Coke from Josh, long story. And Jay was too. When we realized what we were doing, we stopped. We didn’t even, you know,” he motioned awkwardly, hoping Ian would get they hadn't properly had sex, and that they hadn't gotten off. “We won’t see each other until things are settled ‘cause he doesn’t want to fuck up things with Rami and I sure as fuck don’t want to fuck up things with you.”

“You clearly like him better,” Ian spat, jealousy in his voice accompanied by hurt.

“He’s not it for me, Ian.”

“And I am?” he laughed dryly, shaking his head in disbelief.

“I’m still trying to figure that out,” he told him sincerely. Hopefully, Ian would see how sincere he was about them. That he had fucked up, that he wouldn’t do it again – at least, not on purpose. He didn’t want Ian to leave him. That was a lot for someone who didn’t have any attach apart from his sister.

He didn’t care about people walking out of his life, except for Mandy. Yet, he didn’t want Ian to walk out, not that soon.


	12. Show me your War Face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from Muse's last single, _Psycho_. (soldier!ian feels listening to it, lemme tell you)
> 
> My apologies for any non-sense, typo or shit like that. I can't, for the love of God, read these 8,000+ words again right now.

“Trying to figure that out?” Ian repeated, not knowing if he was understanding Mickey’s point well.

“Yeah,” he could hear the lump in Mickey’s throat. “I like you, Ian. I really do.”

“What about Jay, huh?” He couldn’t stop himself from spitting that name. “What about _everything_ you’ve experienced with him?” He knew he was probably crossing a border in here somewhere. He couldn’t bring himself to care. Why would he be the only one suffering? It had been Mickey’s idea from the start, and now it turned against him. It wasn’t fair, to say the least.

“That doesn’t mean shit,” he only replied. They both knew he was lying. Yet, seeing the tears filling Mickey’s eyes, he couldn’t stop himself from softening. Mickey was trying, he knew he was.

“Mickey, we’re being honest here. We both know that it means something to you.”

“It – it does, yeah,” the other man finally admitted. Ian felt like they were taking a step forward into this conversation. He was supposed to be the one being hurt by the situation, but he could feel that he wasn’t the only one in the room suffering from what had happened.

“So, why telling me? Why hurting me like this?” He needed to push. It would have been easier if Mickey hadn’t said shit, if he had kept everything to himself. At least, Ian wouldn’t have been hurt.

“Because I care about you,” was Mickey’s answer. Ian could hear the sincerity in his voice, how he hadn’t even hesitated before saying this. He cared about him as well, but that didn’t do everything – to care about someone. You can care about someone, and still hurt them. That doesn’t soothe the fact that one is hurt in the end.

“You do, now,” he snorted despite himself. He kept the tears to himself, but he guessed his eyes were red already. He could feel a lump in his throat as well. The words got out strangled.

“Don’t do this, Ian,” Mickey pleaded him softly. He made a move to grab his wrist. Ian let his fingers linger on his forearm for a couple of seconds before brushing them off. He crossed his arms over his chest – not knowing if he was stopping Mickey to reach out for him or if it was the other way around.

“I’m not the one who fucked up, Mickey,” he deadpanned, looking anywhere but at Mickey. He knew he would give in if he did.

“I know, Ian. I’m not blaming you. You didn’t do shit.”

“Except not fucking you, apparently,” he let out. It meant to be sarcastic, but he could hear the hurt in his own voice.

“Yeah,” Mickey agreed. “But that was my fault as well.”

“We’re two in this relationship, Mickey.” He finally looked up at him, finally made their eyes connect. He wanted him to understand that he didn’t want to give up on them. That they still had a relationship going on in here.

“I know.” Mickey was the one looking down this time. “But I’m the one who set this stupid rule. I’m the one who’s weak and caved. You didn’t ask for this to happen.”

“Neither did you,” he replied before he could stop himself. Mickey looked up at him, a strangely confused expression tearing his features.

“Why aren’t you leaving me?” He asked him. Ian sensed that Mickey was genuinely upset about why he wasn’t throwing a tantrum and leaving his apartment – and his life, for good. Himself wanted to understand why he hadn’t done this when the dots had connected in his brain.

He knew, though. Maybe Mickey was weak, but Ian was as well.

“Because I want to believe in you. In _us_.”

“I basically confessed to you that I kind of cheated on you, and you’re so understanding like this? I don’t get it.”

“People I care about hurt me more than that, Mick,” he found himself saying. He had never told him about his siblings, about how none of them, except for Debbie, was still part of Ian’s life. Mickey knew about Monica from the few bits he had told him about her – explaining from whom he had inherited his disorder. Mickey didn’t know how deep Ian had been hurt by some people in the past. He wasn’t about to tell him neither. “I’ve hurt people as well. Sometimes, people just need a second chance.”

“You’re serious right now?” Mickey asked him. He was sure Mickey wasn’t believing him, that he thought he was being played with. Mickey didn’t know much about relationships.

“You chose me, Mick,” he simply provided.

“What?” The other man frowned, his shoulders relaxing.

“You chose _me_ over _him_. You’ve known him for years, and me? Just months. Yet, you made the choice to be honest and to come to me.”

“I want us to work, Ian. I thought you knew that.”

“I do,” he told him, taking a step forward. Mickey’s eyes were unsure on how the events were about to turn out. “But sometimes, you just need a proof.”

“I guess,” Mickey agreed. He shifted on his feet, apparently not knowing how to act. Ian, at last, reached out for him. He put one of his hand on Mickey’s bicep, gently gripping at it.

“Sorry for getting him out of your life,” he muttered. His head was slightly bent to catch the emotion playing behind Mickey’s eyes.

“You didn’t, I did,” he responded with newly gained assurance. “Like you said, I chose to do it.” He then reached for Ian as well, mirroring his action by putting a hand on his arm. “I care about you,” he told him, looking at him intently.

“I know,” Ian nodded. He just wanted to wrap his arms around him, to kiss him and tell him things would be okay. He couldn’t bring himself to lie to him. He didn’t know if things would be okay. He wanted them to be. He just wanted to erase this event from both of their memories. He wanted to taste these lips again, to snuggle against him on the couch while reading his book. He just wanted this Saturday afternoon to be spent like any other Saturday afternoon had been spent since they had started dating. He knew better, though.

“Does that mean, we’re… okay, now?” Mickey hesitated to ask.

“Not really,” he admitted. Mickey didn’t seem surprised. He seemed almost relieved. Maybe he was. Maybe he was actually relieved that Ian wasn’t just ending things. That was what the redhead chose to believe. “I guess we’re back to the start now. You know, getting each other’s trust.”

“I trust you,” Mickey told him honestly.

“But I don’t,” he retorted. He saw how Mickey flinched at his words. There was no point in lying. He didn’t trust Mickey on this. Not anymore. Sure, he had told him, but it had happened anyways. Telling him didn’t erase the fact that these actions had been done at first.

Mickey gave him a small apologetic smile, as if he was trying to tell him he got it. A minute passed before Mickey reached forward and laced his arms around Ian.

The redhead hadn’t known he needed comfort until then. Still, Mickey’s arms wrapped around him and his face hidden in the crook of his neck, he let go of himself. He let himself be held and be relaxed for few minutes.

It felt good to be wanted like this, to be cared about. He felt Mickey’s hand stroking his back. If he wasn’t mistaking, he could hear faint ‘I’m sorrys’ against his skin. He made no comments about it, he didn’t know if he should hear them to start with.

He knew Mickey was sorry – he wouldn’t have told him otherwise.

Something else popped up in his mind, though.

“What’s the story about the drugs anyways? Is that a common thing I should know about?” He didn’t want to move from their position, but he reluctantly let Mickey go.

“No, it’s not. You should know that.”

“I’m just asking.”

“Want some coffee?” Ian felt like he was avoiding the question, so he squinted his eyes at him. “Don’t give me that look, I’m gonna explain. Feels easier around a cup of coffee or some shit.”

“Alright then,” he agreed. He assumed Mickey was trying to gain some time, maybe retelling himself the story in his own mind before saying it out loud. He didn’t mind. He settled back on the couch in the meantime. He looked at it with disgust, assuming fully well this was the place where it had happened. Yet, it was also the place where they had shared meals, watched movies, made out and shared secrets. He wasn’t about to give up on good memories for a single horrible one. He was better than that.

“Here,” Mickey handed him a mug of warm dark liquid. He hadn’t even heard him coming, too lost in his thoughts.

“Thanks,” he muttered, gladly taking the mug. It was getting cold outside, and inside as well. He didn’t mind a hot coffee to warm himself up with. He wished he could just snuggle against Mickey, laying under a blanket and keeping on their afternoon activities as if nothing had happened.

“So,” Mickey started. He sat on the very end of the couch, his back against the armrest. He brought his knees up against his chest, as if he was trying to shield himself behind them. “It was coke.”

“Coke?”

“Yeah, from Josh.”

“You bought coke off Josh after threatening him to get him fired for it?”

“I didn’t buy it. I steal it from him, from time to time,” he offered. He then took a small gulp from his mug. Ian couldn’t stop the smile to creep up on his lips when he saw the scrunched up face Mickey made after having burnt his tongue with the coffee. Mickey had always been impatient with his coffee, but not able to drink it burning hot. Paradox.

“Oh, so this wasn’t a one-time thing then?” Ian felt like asking. He should know if Mickey was a regular at snorting coke, right? He should notice if his boyfriend was a drug addict.

“At stealing him? No. At sniffing it? Kinda. I mean, years ago I did drugs but like any teenagers in the South side I guess. I hadn’t touched it for years, Ian.”

“So what, you steal from him now? You’re messing up with a dealer?”

“I ain’t scared of him,” he replied, cracking his neck. Ian almost laughed at him. He knew Mickey appeared tough on the outside, yet this was the same man who had almost cried only minutes ago. He knew how soft Mickey was deep inside. He wasn’t buying the act of the tough guy anymore. He didn’t even know if he had believed in it in the first place.

“I know you’re not, Mickey. Just, why?”

“He’s messing with Icarus, you know that. So I’m messing with him. I steal from him, from time to time just to piss him off. He assumes it’s one of his regulars. He even had the balls to come complaining to me about it.”

“What’s your plan about it?”

“Don’t really know, actually. I guess I’m gonna keep on pissing him off until he stops or takes the door.”

“Remind me why don’t you report him to your boss?”

“He needs a reason to fire him. If the said reason is drug related, inspection will come to the bar and we’ll be closed for weeks, if we’re lucky. That or cops will show up every other nights to do controls.”

Ian nodded. He understood why Mickey was doing this. Yet, he was putting himself in danger if he was the one with the coke at the bar or in the streets. Making a coworker leave wasn’t worth risking falling for it. “What did you do with what you stole?”

“I gave everything to the boss. Except this last one.”

“Where is it now?”

“In the Chicago’s sewers. I flushed everything down after, you know,” he waved around with his hand instead of clarifying what he was talking about.

“Why?”

“I don’t want any memory of it. Nor any reminder. I just want to forget about it,” he replied in all honesty. Ian didn’t know what to say about it. He wanted to comfort him, to show him he cared anyways.

He finished his coffee and put the mug on the table. Approaching Mickey, he set his mug next to his before parting his knees. He saw the panic expression on Mickey’s face – as if he was being set up.

He unfolded Mickey’s legs for them to end up on each side of his body before laying against him – his side against Mickey’s chest.

“Hold me,” he just said. He heard the sigh of relief Mickey let out before he shifted to a more comfortable position. His arms wrapped around Ian and the redhead placed his forehead against his neck.

After a while, they turned on the TV and Ian brought the thin blanket to cover their cooling bodies. It felt oddly domestic, and sad at the same time.

They stayed there until Mickey had to get ready for work. When he was ready to leave, Ian gathered his stuff, saying he would sleep at his own place that night.

He stayed with him when he waited for the elevator to arrive. He stepped inside next to him, enjoying the occasion that he was going a floor down and Mickey seven.

As he was about to step out of the lift, Mickey grabbed his wrist with strength. He brought him against him to kiss him goodbye – just a small peck on the lips.

“I’ll see you?” he asked him.

“Yeah,” Ian nodded. He stayed there watching him until the door closed, separating them.

***

 Alone in his own apartment, Ian tried to proceed what had just happened. In the back of his mind, he didn’t want to care about it. He had been cheated on already, he had been the one people cheated on with. And, if he had understood well, things hadn’t gone very far between them. He told himself to get over it, that people made mistakes and should be forgiven.

He realized that it wouldn’t take him long to forgive Mickey. He liked him, he liked his presence nearby. He liked mostly everything about him. He knew he was easy to forgive people when they played him. He tried not to, but when he cared about them he did anyways. He couldn’t count the number of times he had forgiven Monica for everything she had put them through. She was his mother, how could he not forgive her.

And Mickey was Mickey, he couldn’t let him walk out of his life like this – even if he fucked up. He told himself it could have been worse. If one looked closely to every factors that led to Jay and Mickey ending up hot and heavy, they could easily spot details to bring up to make someone understand it hadn’t been intentional.

That’s what Ian wanted to believe.

***

[7:39 PM] Ian Gallagher: Busy tonight or this weekend at all?

[7:42 PM] Shawn Thomas: Missing your man already? ;)

[7:45 PM] Ian Gallagher: Is that a yes or a no?

[7:49 PM] Shawn Thomas: Do I sense trouble in paradise?

[7:53 PM] Ian Gallagher: No.

[8:00 PM] Shawn Thomas: Okay, fine. Don’t tell me. Mope on your own on a Saturday night.

[8:01 PM] Shawn Thomas: I’m actually out with my college friends. You know, the ones you hate? And I’ll probably be hangover as fuck tomorrow so don’t count on me. Unless it’s a life or death situation???

[8:05 PM] Ian Gallagher: Nah. Have fun with them. I’ll see you Monday at work.

[8:07 PM] Shawn Thomas: Okay, Red!

[8:10 PM] Ian Gallagher: Dude, it’s barely 8 and you’re getting wasted already? You only call me Red when you are.

[8:13 PM] Shawn Thomas: It’s never too soon to drink! Have fun jerking off and brooding, babe!

[8:16 PM] Ian Gallagher: Okay. Stop. Have fun. I’ll show you this when I’ll see you sober.

[8:19 PM] Shawn Thomas: *kissing emoji*

“Dumbass,” Ian muttered with a small smile on his face.

***

Ian decided to have a quiet night then. After channel surfing for way too long, he decided to keep on reading his book. This book was too psychological for him, but it kept him focused and on the edge. It was exactly what he needed right now – not being able to think about something else.

It didn’t take long before he stopped his reading to warm himself some soup. He felt silly to be a 25 year old, spending his Saturday night reading and eating soup by himself.

Opening the cupboards where too many sachets of dried soup and cans of it stood, Ian rummaged through to find one to please him for the night. When he finally decided on one, he noticed a post-it stuck on it.

_If you save this one for me, I promise I’ll eat soup. – M_

He bit down his lip to stop the grin from forming on his face. This was useless. He didn’t even know when Mickey had put that there.

[9:13 PM] Ian Gallagher: Still wanna eat that soup?

He stayed there, sitting on his kitchen floor, waiting for Mickey’s response.

[9:19 PM] Mickey Milkovich: YES PLEASE IT LOOKED SO GOOD.

He looked at the package once again, _cheese, potatoes, cream_ and barely any vegetables in it. No wonder he wanted to taste this one. With a smile, he put it back to its place and grabbed his second choice.

[9:22 PM] Ian Gallagher: It’s safe in the cupboard. Don’t worry.

[9:25 PM] Mickey Milkovich: Thank you!!

[9:28 PM] Mickey Milkovich: Josh is such an ass, I swear I could kill him if I didn’t risk jail for it.

Ian was by his micro-wave, waiting for his dinner to be ready.

[9:29 PM] Ian Gallagher: What did he do this time?

[9:35 PM] Mickey Milkovich: Stole my table when I was talking to you! Luckily the group of chicks wants me and not his stupid ass hitting on them. Good tips. Plus he wants my 10:15 break, no fucking way.

[9:38 PM] Ian Gallagher: Shouldn’t you be working instead of texting me then?

[9:41 PM] Mickey Milkovich: I should, yeah.

[9:42 PM] Mickey Milkovich: Talk later or tomorrow?

[9:46 PM] Ian Gallagher: Yeah. Tomorrow.

***

Ian knew he was an ass. But he liked having this ability to annoy someone without actually doing anything mean. It felt like bickering with Lip, when he couldn’t actually do that.

“Morning sunshine,” he said loudly when the line connected. He had been nice enough to wait for the clock to tick 10 o’clock before calling Shawn.

“Shut up,” he heard the other man moan on the other end.

“How was your night?” he cheered, once again loudly.

“I don’t remember. Talk lower, Jesus,” the other man said.

“Jesus? Last night I was your babe and Red,” he teased him.

“Oh God, I said that?” Suddenly Shawn’s voice sounded more aware.

“Yeah, you did. Were you already plastered that early? Seriously?”

“I don’t know. Look, Ian, let me deal with this hangover. Go annoy your boyfriend and let me die in my bed.”

“Hopefully not alone,” Ian smirked.

There was a small silence before he heard Shawn muttering, “Oh shit,” right before hanging up. Ian frowned at his phone. He would know about this sooner or later.

***

“And then the guy complains once more about that chick. Like, let it go man,” Mickey kept on babbling.

“Mhm,” he barely answered, eyes on his book. When he received a cushion right on his book, he shot up. “Hey, that’s not mine.”

“You weren’t listening,” Mickey told him.

“I was,” Ian retorted, trying to straighten the book.

“What was I saying, then?” He asked, a smirk on his face.

“That the chick was hitting on you so hard, she even tried to put a hand down your pants,” Ian repeated, shaking his head at the same time. Mickey kept his glare in place, though. “What?”

“That was, like, ten minutes ago, Ian,” he replied.

“Oh. Well, then no, I wasn’t listening,” Ian laughed it off. He quickly put the book on the coffee table, sensing that Mickey was about to surge forward. He’d been right. He knew Mickey too well. The other man jumped on him, ready to attack his ticklish sides.

“What’s the point of you asking how was my night if you don’t listen,” he groaned, while trying to dominate Ian. They were both laughing too much to keep their breathing steady.

“I’m only interested when it’s about you. I don’t care about your customers,” Ian replied, avoiding an attacking hand on his right side.

“But you see what I have to go through then.”

“You chose it,” Ian managed to say before he gave up fighting. Mickey tickled his sides for a minute before stopping. There was no fun in tickling someone who had surrendered.

“Yeah,” he huffed. He bent forward, stilling only a couple of inches away from Ian’s lips. Their eyes locked again. Ian was sure he was waiting for some kind of agreement to this. So he closed the gap.

It felt good to kiss him again.

They stayed there for a little while, tasting the other’s mouth, before laying back down.

***

“Are you even watching this?” Ian asked, a bit exasperated. The show on TV was shitty, and from the way Mickey was staring at him, he wasn’t paying attention to the TV.

Ian, though, was still trying to comprehend the events happening in the book he was reading – the sound from the TV obviously bothering him.

“I am,” Mickey replied, turning toward the screen.

“No, you weren’t. Come on, turn that shit down.”

“Why? Why do you have to read when we’re together?”

“Because this book’s interesting?” Ian offered as an answer.

“You’re an ass,” Mickey sighed. “Shove over,” he said as only warning. He turned off the TV before slipping between Ian’s body and his book – his back against Ian’s front. “Who’s Taylor?” he asked after a moment.

“She’s Sandra’s daughter.”

“Sandra’s a witch, right?”

“No, she’s a lawyer. Jesus, Mick,” Ian laughed. “Shut up,” he whispered in his ear.

“I wanna understand,” Mickey complained like a child. He laughed at himself for the tone he used.

“Shush,” Ian repeated, putting one of his hands over Mickey’s eyes to prevent him from reading more.

***

Ian didn’t sleep at Mickey’s that night neither. He had thought that, as weeks went by, he would spend less and less night sleeping alone in his bed. He wanted to text or call Mickey, to tell him to come by after his shift. It was 2:59 AM, he was probably heading out of work by now. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

He had promised himself he would go for a run in the morning, to try to clear his mind a bit. But what was the point if he couldn’t even get some sleep beforehand?

He shifted, turning in bed, trying to settle into a more comfortable position. He couldn’t stop himself from thinking about Mickey, Jay, Shawn, then he was reminded of Lydia, who made him think of Fiona, his siblings. His mother. He hadn’t even noticed the tears on his face when he lulled himself to sleep, crying.

***

His alarm startled him awake that morning. He didn’t want to get up, oh God, no. He wasn’t hungry, neither did he want to move at all. Still, he knew why. He knew, and the anger it brought made him get up. He went to brush his teeth, take his meds. He quickly changed clothes and got his phone to put some music on before leaving his apartment.

[5:36 AM] Mickey Milkovich: Not a stalker. Heard your alarm? I’m awake if you want me to make you breakfast afterwards.

Ian smiled shyly at his phone. Mickey was trying, he was trying so hard.

[5:39 AM] Ian Gallagher: Will you still be awake in like half an hour? Give or take.

[5:41 AM] Mickey Milkovich: If you promise you’ll come by, yeah.

[5:42 AM] Ian Gallagher: Okay, then.

***

Running didn’t help much. It brought him even more on the edge if that was possible. It tired him a lot as well. He realized that he had slightly fucked up with his routine by dating Mickey. Waking up at the crack of dawn to do some exercise? Not likely. He had played hermit when he wasn’t with Mickey. And also hermit when he was actually with him.

In the lobby, he hesitated. He made himself the promise he would go back on the tracks to exercise this week, for real. But first, no way he was climbing the seven stories of stairs. The elevator would make it for today.

***

“So I woke you up again? Like old times?” Ian asked around his mug of coffee. His plate consisted of eggs, bacon and a single toast. Mickey, on the contrary only had eggs and ketchup – not even a coffee to go with it. His excuses had been, first, that he needed to do some groceries – Ian couldn’t deny that – and, second, that he would go back to sleep afterwards so no coffee required.

“You wish,” he mumbled before swallowing his fork of eggs. “I couldn’t sleep, that’s all.”

“Oh, okay,” Ian muttered. He had been hyper aware of how gross and sweaty he had been when entering Mickey’s apartment. Yet, the other man hadn’t cared. He had waited a minute or so before muttering a ‘fuck it’ and kissing him hello. It had warmed Ian’s heart. Yet, right now, the room felt cold. The atmosphere wasn’t what he had expected for a Monday morning with your boyfriend – having him cooking breakfast for you.

“This is awkward, right?” Mickey provided after a minute or so.

“A bit, yeah,” Ian admitted.

“Was it like this _before_ , you know?” He squirmed on his seat, forgetting about his food for a short while.

“I don’t know, I guess not.”

“Why are we making this awkward, then?” Mickey asked.

“I don’t know,” Ian sighed, letting his arm fall on the table. Mickey took his as an occasion to grab his hand, lacing their fingers together. He gave him a small apologetic smile again.

“I’m sorry,” he said lowly. He squeezed his hand reassuringly. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. Ian looked down to his plate, he didn’t know what to say. He knew Mickey was sorry, he didn’t even have to utter these words – he knew. The scratch of a chair against the floor made him look up, though. Mickey never let go of his hand as he rounded the table. He pushed Ian’s chair for him to face him.

“Don’t mention it, ever again,” Ian muttered despite himself. Mickey bent forward to put his lips on his. Ian released a sigh a relief when he tasted Mickey. It felt soothing to have him like this. It didn’t take long for Mickey to sit on his lap, bringing the hand he had been holding to settle it against his small back.

“Okay, okay,” he rushed to say against his lips. Ian moved his other hand up, to caress Mickey’s scalp. He loved his bed hair, when nothing was in it to style it. Mickey moaned against him, but quickly shut himself up. He froze in his actions, parting slightly from Ian’s lips.

“It’s okay,” the redhead muttered. His eyes were locked with Mickey’s. The artificial lights of the room brought out even more the blue of Mickey’s eyes. “It’s okay,” he repeated as he put his hands under Mickey’s ass.

He stood up, bringing Mickey with him. He sat him up on the table, pushing the dishes away with one arm. He closed the distance between them once more, settling properly between his boyfriend’s legs.

He, then, locked their lips once more. He didn’t even hesitate when he pushed his tongue in Mickey’s mouth. The groan he heard leaving Mickey’s throat wasn’t a complain – far from it.

He settled his hands back to their previous positions, deepening the kiss at the same time. He couldn’t get enough of it. He was in control. In this situation, he was the one controlling what should happen, and what shouldn’t. No one else was here to tell him what to do, to forbid him from doing whatever he wanted to.

He pushed Mickey farther on the table, making him lay down against it.

“What are you doing?” Mickey breathed as he almost laid on top of him. He didn’t answer him. He didn’t know himself what he was doing – and why he was doing it.

He chased Mickey’s lips again, craving for more. His hands roamed on Mickey’s body, and he was happy to feel that Mickey was doing the same. He felt hands cupping his ass, bringing them flush against the other one.

He left a trail of kisses along Mickey’s cheek. He then bit his earlobe, resulting in a louder moan from the other man. Mickey’s legs wrapped around him, certainly wanting more from this. He wanted too.

Yet, he decided to keep on his actions. He kissed down Mickey’s neck, and starting sucking at the spot he had discovered the week prior. Mickey was more vocal when it came to his sensitive spots being touched – or sucked on.

Ian’s mistake, though, was to open his eyes. They mindlessly wandered up, and settled on the couch. That couch. He hated it. He was suddenly hyper aware that these noises he heard Mickey making, were also the ones he had heard from his upstairs neighbor – when he was with someone else.

He imagined Jay being the one to make writhe Mickey beneath him. He knew he shouldn’t be jealous of past events, but sometimes one can’t stop themselves.

He stopped his actions and laid, spent, on top of Mickey. The other man seemed to catch on. He stroked his back soothingly, as if to appease a child having a nightmare.

“It’s okay,” he said, repeated Ian’s former words.

“I should get ready for work,” Ian said, pushing himself up.

“Sure,” Mickey agreed, pushing himself to a sitting position.

Ian couldn’t look at him, his eyes settling anywhere but on that couch or Mickey. “Yeah,” he muttered, nodding his head before grabbing his jacket from the chair.

“I’ll see you tonight?” Mickey asked, carefully grabbing his arm.

“Maybe,” he replied in all honesty.

“Well, have a good day at work,” he told him, kissing him goodbye.

“Thanks,” he mumbled before leaving Mickey’s apartment.

Maybe it would be more difficult than what had had thought, even with Mickey trying that hard.

***

Ian was preoccupied as he paced around the break room. He didn’t only have Mickey in mind. Shawn, as well. Their shifts were about to start and the other man wasn’t there yet. Just as he was about to text him, he barged into the room.

“Where the fuck were you?” Ian greeted him with.

“Hello to you too, Sunny boy,” Shawn replied sarcastically, shrugging his jacket off.

“I need to vent dude, and we got like, three minutes,” the redhead told him.

“We’ve got all day, Ian,” he said, rummaging through his pockets to find his phone.

“I don’t really want the others to know that my boyfriend kind of cheated on me with his best friend.”

“He did what?” Shawn asked, way too loudly for Ian’s liking.

“He fucked up, they didn’t take it too far, they were stone and drunk. And I mean, he told me. He didn’t hide it from me. He feels so shitty, though....”

“The son of a bitch,” Shawn spat, nonetheless.

“Don’t talk about him like that,” Ian was instantly on the defensive. He surely understood why Shawn would react like this, but still. He didn’t like the idea of someone badmouthing Mickey. He was in too deep.

“Not him, Jay.”

“Oh, continue then,” he allowed him. He hadn’t thought his anger against Jay could flourish that badly, but having Shawn on his side to hate him – it was easier.

“Did you see him, then? Jay, I mean. Please, tell me you beat the shit out of him.”

“No, I didn’t. I don’t even want to see his face right now. He just, pisses me off so badly. Like, he’s the kind of guy _he_ thought _I_ was at first. I mean, being around Mickey just for sex and being a heartless, egoist fuck. Like I didn’t care about anything but my own pleasure. But, _he’s_ that. I mean, he fucked up, okay, maybe, but he brought people down with him. And, I know, Mickey’s hot and a pretty fucking good lay but still, he’s taken. Can’t he just take his hands off of him? Plus, he’s got a boyfriend of his own. Why doesn’t he just fuck off?!”

“Did you tell Mickey all that?”

Ian sighed, and dropped on the single chair in the room. “Nah, I didn’t. They’re too close. It would be as if Mickey was saying shit about you.”

“Yeah, but I haven’t tried to sleep with you now that you’re taken. There’s a slight difference there, Ian.” The redhead looked down at his own hands. He knew Shawn was right. He had brought up the subject to him, knowing he would be good advice. But still, the truth hurt. “So what? You’re gonna let them hang out together. Just the two of them. While the thing is eating you because you can’t stop thinking, _‘what if he’s cheating on me with him again?’_ ”

“They’re not gonna see each other for a little while.”

“How could you be so sure?”

“Mickey told me so. And I want to believe him,” he said. He knew it was a pathetic vision to have: the boyfriend, desperately wanting to believe in his partner.

“You’re weird, Ian. You know that? Why do you keep on believing him like this? This relationship was a shitshow from the start. I know it got better once it properly started, but still, Ian,” he told him softly. He knelt in from of him, putting a reassuring hand on his knee. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I know, Shawn,” the redhead muttered. He let his head drop in his hands, breathing heavily. The tiredness and stress was taking over him. He tried not to cry again. There was no point in hiding it to Shawn, the other man knew him too much for that. Still, he sniffed, brushing the back of his hand against his nose before looking at him. “I fucking want him. Not just like, a simple boyfriend – upgraded fuck buddy or some shit. I _want_ him. Everything there’s to have and to know about him.”

Shawn’s mouth twitched. “A bit soon to profess love thoughts, isn’t it?”

“I know,” Ian nodded. He then shook his head, “Way too fucking soon.”

“Hey,” Shawn grabbed his chin gently. “It’s gonna be alright, Ian? Okay? You got this. I’m here for you. And he seems to be as well, huh? You got us.” A single tear fell from Ian’s eyes – one he couldn’t hold. “Here,” Shawn made him stand up and wrapped his arms around him. “It’s gonna be fine,” he soothed gently.

Ian let his breathing calm down, his heartbeat mimicking Shawn’s quiet one. It felt good to have nothing to worry about, at least for a couple of minutes.

“What happened this weekend?” he muttered, chin propped on Shawn’s shoulder.

“What _‘what happened’_?”

“Your _hangovered_ ‘ _oh shit’_ yesterday? Something I need to know?”

“No,” he grumbled. Ian could feel his heartbeat going faster, and faster.

“What did you do?” he insisted.

“I don’t fucking remember,” he huffed and pushed Ian away. He took Ian’s previous seat, and mirrored his former position. “I slept with my college roommate. You know, Boris, the tall one, working at the bank.”

“But what do you mean you don’t remember then?”

“I was half naked in his bed when you called. With him.”

“Maybe you just got plastered that night and you came home together, Shawn. Don’t worry that much,” he told him, trying to ease his mood – totally reversing the situation from earlier.

“Ian, I know you don’t bottom often but you’re not that dumb. We obviously slept together.” He squirmed in his seat, and Ian gave him a confused look as he did so. “I can still feel him in my ass,” he muttered. Ian laughed quietly, but when Shawn glared at him he sobered up.

“So, what did he say? Like, _‘oh oops, I’m so gay for you now’_?” He tried to laugh again.

“No way. I fucked off after hanging up with you. Didn’t call him or text him.”

“So you don’t want that to happen again, I assume.”

“Don’t you remember me telling you I was into some chick? And then I get a dick up my ass. I’m such an idiot.”

“Come on, you were drunk.”

“I know, Ian,” he said, threading his fingers through his blond locks. “He used to take me for a slut back in college, since I scored more than he did. It’s just so stupid.”

“Is he taken or some shit?” Ian couldn’t stop himself to ask.

“No, don’t worry. We’re not imitating your situation.”

Lydia suddenly popped her head in, squinting her eyes at them. “Hate to break it to you, guys, but your shifts started over 10 minutes ago.”

“Yeah, sure,” Shawn said, getting up.

“What were you talking about anyways?” she asked him, as he approached the threshold.

“Nothing,” he replied at the same time as Ian said, “his ass.”

She laughed at them, her eyes coming and going between them. “Seriously? That early and already talking about ass? You’re gonna kill me, guys,” she told them. She started making her way towards the main desk, Ian in tow. “Angel face, hurry the fuck up,” she called out when Shawn didn’t join them.

He listened to them talking, away from the break room. Without much thinking, he looked through Ian’s pockets and, surely, the other man had forgotten his phone.

Shamelessly unlocking it, he went through Ian’s contacts – looking for Jay’s name. Not finding it, he settled for the next best thing and took Mickey’s number, saving it into his own phone.

“Hey, Cherub,” Ian called out for him.

“Oh fuck off,” he yelled before, actually, leaving the room to join his coworkers.

“Stop cursing,” Lydia shouted as well.

“What the fuck is happened in here?” They heard Alisha asking as she came through the door, sex hair on.

“You could’ve at least tried,” Shawn told her, pointing at her hair. She flipped him off before walking past him.

***

[9:01 AM] Shawn Thomas: Hi, this is Shawn. Ian’s friend. He told me about what happened and I wanted to talk to this guy, Jay. Could you give me his number or some shit, please?

[10:09 AM] Mickey Milkovich: Ian gave you my number??

[10:11 AM] Shawn Thomas: Hm, no. Not really.

“Who are you talking to?”

“No one.”

“Zoey?”

“No.”

“Ah? Boris?”

“No,” he rushed to say, pocketing his phone before Ian could see anything.

“Dude, careful of what you’re doing,” Ian gave him a meaningful look.

“Don’t worry about me, Ian.”

The redhead put his hands up in mock surrender before strolling up the section, walking backwards.

[10:14 AM] Mickey Milkovich: If you want to beat him up, no way. Plus, Ian deserves that honor before you do anyways.

[10:21 AM] Shawn Thomas: Jesus, I just wanna talk to the guy. Can I?!

[10:29 AM] Mickey Milkovich: Not giving you that but I think he works tonight. The supermarket at the corner of Cottage Grove and the 47th.

[10:33 AM] Shawn Thomas: Thanks dude. Oh, and, stating the obvious: you hurt Ian again and I’ll make you regret it.

[10:39 AM] Mickey Milkovich: Not planning on doing so that but yeah, sure.

 

* * *

 

Shawn didn’t know if it was a good idea, but as Ian’s closest friend, he assumed it was his duty. Leaving the library that evening, the weather was quickly cooling outside. He tried not to think about his own fuck-ups, tried not to think about Mickey fucking up and hurting Ian. The reason why all that was happening was because that Jay guy was still sticking around.

He hadn’t understood why Ian had let all that happen. How he hadn’t put an end to this _way too close_ relationship between his boyfriend and ex.

Still, he tried not to put himself into Ian’s shoes – he wasn’t. He wasn’t living Ian’s life, and he wasn’t in his head. Sometimes, he couldn’t comprehend Ian’s way of thinking – despite trying so hard. Everybody had a fucked-up way of thinking about one thing or another – Ian’s was his way to deal with forgiveness.

He’d seen how in too deep Ian was with this guy. He had been since that first day he had seen him – that day he had rimmed and fucked him so hard, thinking about this guy he had only seen once. It had been bound to happen.

He had been a bit pessimistic about Mickey at first. Out of habit. It was his role, as friend, to be more distant and more objective. But if you erased Jay from the equation, he wouldn’t have minded having his own Mickey to himself. He’d seen how happy Ian had been during these weeks of actual relationship.

He found himself in front of the supermarket, the night falling. The temperature inside was barely warmer than the one outside.

He walked through the aisles, checking every employee to find someone resembling to the guy Ian had showed him a picture of, weeks ago.

“May I help you, Sir?” a teenager girl asked him, startling him.

“Hm,” he looked around, last chance to catch a glimpse of this guy. “Sure. Is Jay working here today?”

“Yeah, it’s his break time right now. He’s in the back room with –“ she shushed herself, though, as if she was saying something she shouldn’t be saying. “He should be back in five good minutes. Want me to tell him you’re here, Mister..?”

“Thomas, I’m Thomas,” he lied, automatically. He didn’t want her to tell Jay he was here – if the guy even knew of him at all. “But it’s a surprise. I’ll wait for him.”

***

He roamed around the supermarket for a short while, choosing to do some groceries in the meantime – just enough to fit within a single bag.

After a moment, the teenager from earlier – who had stayed in his line of sight, actually stalking him – tilted her head towards one of the aisles. He nodded and mouthed _‘thank you’_ before going there.

“Hi,” he started gently with.

“Hello sir, may I help you?” He politely said. Shawn could hear how these words were uttered automatically all day long.

“Hm, no. I came here to talk to you.”

“Do I know you?” he asked, stilling his actions.

“Not yet,” he told him. “I’m Shawn. Shawn Thomas,” offering his hand. When the other man didn’t shake it, only glared at it, and added, “Ian’s closest friend and coworker.”

“Fuck,” he said, taking a step back. “You know, don’t you? Shit.”

“Yeah, I do,” he told him. Jay backed away even more. “Jesus, don’t go away. Just wanna talk.”

The younger man was few feet away, looking at him quizzically. “That’s none your business.”

“Everything’s good here?” he heard a voice behind him. Turning around, he saw an olive skinned man with bright eyes. The man was probably younger than him as well. He looked at him walking to Jay, putting a hand on the small of the younger man’s back.

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” Jay said, somewhat convincingly. He looked at the guy Shawn assumed was his boyfriend, nodding at him. The man glared at Shawn before starting to walk away.

“I’ll be in the stocking room, Jay, if you need me.”

“Sure,” he said, watching him go.

“So, I assume he doesn’t know,” Shawn offered once they were alone.

“No, he doesn’t. And it’s gonna stay that way. I don’t wanna hurt him,” he explained. He mindlessly started to put in order items on the shelves, pushing them to the edge. “Why, you’re gonna tell him for me?”

“No, I’m not that childish. That’s your call to make, dude, but look, the truth always shows up. This is gonna bite you in the ass at some point,” he found himself saying.

“Why do you care?” he asked him, a glare thrown in his direction.

“I don’t,” he said. He really didn’t. He had come here to have an explanation, maybe scare the kid a little. “But if you come crying to Mickey about it, I do. This isn’t sane for you two to be that close, you know?”

“We’ve already decided to not see each other until things are settled.”

“But we both know things never go as planned, right? Don’t come crawling back at him once you failed this relationship, kid.”

“I’m not a kid,” he spat at him.

“Aren’t you?” Shawn quirked an eyebrow, challenging him. “How old are you anyways? 19? 20, tops?”

“21.”

“Kid to me,” Shawn shrugged. He deliberately moved some products on the shelves as they walked by. Jay, who seemed to have mastered this look, glared at him once more but didn’t comment on it as he put them in the right order every time.

“Why, how old are you?” He tilted his head.

“27. I know more about life, kid. At some point, you’ll get hurt and you’ll come crying to Mickey, obviously.”

“Afraid I’ll get hurt?” Jay said sarcastically.

“Afraid it’ll get Mickey hurt,” Shawn corrected him.

“Oh, so now you protect Mickey? We were two in this.”

“I know. But if Mickey gets hurt, Ian will too. Chain reaction. So, Mickey hurt means you dead. We clear?”

“And what if _they_ hurt _me_ , huh? You don’t seem to notice that I lost my best friend in all this.”

“You chose for it to happen, kid.”

“No, I didn’t!” he said loudly all of a sudden. Some people turned towards them, so he kept on talking but lower. “I didn’t mean for all that to happen. I just wish I could go back and erase all this,” he stared at him for a minute before refocusing on his task. “Christ, why am I even talking to you about this?” he muttered. After another minute of silence and him not leaving, Jay asked again. “Why did you come here anyway? For real?”

“For real? You fucked up with my friend’s happiness and I wanted to fuck up with you. But honestly, I pity you.”

“Yeah, well, you’re not the only one. There’s enough self-pity around here for you to throw yours in.”

“I can see that,” he said lowly.

“So, are you gonna keep this masquerade on for long or can I properly go back to work?”

“I’m not playing, kid,” he told him. He did pity him, yes. But surely, the kid had made a mistake as well and was about to deal with it sooner or later. Mickey had chosen to be honest and to tell Ian, but not Jay? This couldn’t end well. And Shawn was sure that at some point, without meaning to, the younger man will bring trouble in paradise. “Just stay away, kid.”

“And I guess you can stay while I’m being thrown away. Right?”

“I’m not gonna jump my friend. I know the difference between fuck buddies and boyfriends. Ian wasnever more than a good friend to sleep with. The sex is over, but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna lose my friend because he found someone he wants to grow old and useless with.”

“Yeah, sure,” he snorted.

“Well, take care,” he said, giving him a meaningful look.

“Yeah,” he huffed. “You too, Barbie doll.”

“I take that as a compliment,” Shawn smirked at him.

“Maybe it was,” the younger tilted his head – self-pity quickly washed away.

“Bye, kid. I’ll see you around, I guess.” ‘ _Probably sooner than you think_ ,’ he wanted to add.

The younger man squinting his eyes at him, before saying, “I’m taken.”

“Never stopped a guy before,” he told him. “Be careful of what you wish for, kid.”

“It’s Jay, not kid.”

“Then bye, _Jay_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, big thanks to Nuria. (I think I'll credit you for every chapter from now on? It seems fair tbh)
> 
> Finishing on this note, _"Shawn, you grandpa!"_


	13. Shining like a New Dime, part I.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1- I _**HAD**_ to split this chapter into two parts. This one is nearly 8,000 words, and it was only bringing what will happen in the next chapter so...  
>  2- There's a lot of changing POV in this one. Hope it's clear and not too messy.

“I went to see him.”

“Who? Boris?” Ian asked, keeping on doing his task.

“Bo – no! Jesus, not him,” a shiver of disgust spread through Shawn’s body.

“Don’t act so put off, he’s not that bad,” Ian shrugged.

“Thought you hated him?”

“I do. Doesn’t mean I can’t find him hot.”

Shawn squinted his eyes at him, trying to decipher if he was kidding him or not. “Anyways, wasn’t talking about him. I meant _Homewrecker_. Came by his workplace two days ago. He’s a kid, Jesus.”

“What?” Ian went still. “Why did you do that?”

“I wanted to scare him a bit. Don’t give me that look, I know it was stupid. But seriously, he’s a kid.”

“I know. Why are you telling me all that? I don’t want to hear of him.”

“Because he’s definitely staying away from Mickey and you. Without me saying shit. You don’t have to worry about him, Ian. It was a mistake to him as well.”

“I know. You don’t need to try to reassure me,” Ian said coldly.

“You can’t lie to me, Ian. I know it’s bothering you and I totally get it. You’ll have to face it at some point. But I’m just saying, you trust Mickey on this and I wanna trust this kid as well. Nothing to be worried about.” Ian wanted to argue he didn’t trust Mickey. Not anymore. But who was he kidding? Even if he had told if boyfriend so, he still trusted him just enough. Sure, he wouldn’t like him to be alone with the younger man, not knowing what would happen. But on other matters, he trusted him. _Fuck_.

“Why are you talking about Jay like he’s some poor victim in this?” Ian asked instead. He didn’t even know how Shawn knew Jay.

“He is. As much as Mickey is. I get that you don’t want him near your boyfriend and all –“

“Are you into him?” Ian cut him off.

“What?” Shawn instantly blushed.

“Fuck, don’t tell me the men in my life are both into the same guy. Now I just need to have Debbie drooling over him. Would be perfect,” he spat.

“Hey,” Shawn grabbed his shoulder firmly. “Don’t act like this with me. You have absolutely no right to, Ian. I get that you’re jealous of this guy ‘cause he had what you want to have. But it’s _their_ past, you can’t erase that. You hear me?”

“Yeah, fine,” the redhead gave in too quickly.

“Prefer it that way,” Shawn muttered.

After few moments of silence, Ian said lowly, “Promise me you won’t sleep with him as well.”

“Who, Jay? He’s a kid, Ian.”

“Never stopped a guy before,” he arched an eyebrow, gaze empty as his mind was flooded with unwanted memories.

***

Ian had erased every memory of Jay from his mind. At least, that was what he wanted and what he told himself. Not being in Mickey’s apartment right now felt good to him. There was nothing here reminding him of the third man. He couldn’t be more content – as if it had only been a bad dream.

“When did you get these?” Ian mindlessly asked, his fingers tracing the patterns on Mickey’s knuckles. Mickey was watching TV, but the redhead wasn’t interested in the zombie show that was on. Looking at his boyfriend, barely lighten up by the dim light from the screen, was far more interesting.

“Hm?”

“ _Fuck U-Up._ Any particular reason?”

“Being drunk and a teenager make you do stupid shit. I shouldn’t have listened to Pete,” he explained, clearly bored and uncaring.

“Pete?”

“My cousin,” he told him as if he should know of him.

“Never mentioned him before,” Ian pocked gently at his rib with his elbow. He looked up to see Mickey’s face. He was too comfortable having his back against Mickey’s chest, an arm holding him.

“Nothing much to mention, he’s like 6 years older than me. He barely lived there when Mandy and I were down there.”

“Your cousin lived with you?” Ian shifted to look at him closely. Mickey tried to decipher if he could actually watch his show, but knew that was a lost cause. He sighed and turned off the TV. In the newly pitch dark surrounding them, he heard Mickey fumbling around to find the switch of the lamp by the couch. The light blinded them for a split second before Mickey settled back properly on the couch. Ian sat legs crossed in the middle of it, not leaving much distance between them without it being too intimate.

“We lived at my aunt’s with my cousins. Mandy and I grew up there. Lots of kids around, but Pete always fucked off somewhere else. With him off the house most of the time, we were still 6 kids there, so yeah. A bit fucked up.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that before?”

“Sorry but my main priority in life isn’t to brag about me being an orphan at age nine and kicked out of my aunt’s place by nineteen.”

“I guess, yeah,” Ian said lowly, putting his hand on Mickey’s thigh. “My condolences for your parents, I guess?”

“If you’d known my dad, you wouldn’t be sorry for him dying.”

“You were a kid, Mickey.”

“Yeah, but nine is old enough to know what fucked up is and that your family isn’t a normal happy one.” Ian could sense him withdrawing on himself, he started shielding himself behind his knees again. He did this on rare occasions, so Ian knew something was up when he did so. He put his hand back on him, absolutely nothing sexual in it, just a simple _‘I’m here for you’_ gesture.

“Is that related to the scars on your torso and back?” he almost whispered.

“I don’t want to talk about this, Ian. Not now,” he mumbled.

“Okay, okay,” Ian rushed to say. He forced him into his arms, and felt him relax as he sniffed in his neck. Mickey was way more complicated than he had thought. Just like himself.

“They’re badass, though,” he murmured. “And these tattoos as well,” he said, shaking him a bit. He felt more than he heard Mickey chuckling against him.

“Obviously, you _have_ to have a tattoo and scar kink or some shit,” he mumbled against his skin.

“Out of the two of us, I’m the one with more tattoos so you should be the one with a tattoo kink,” Ian retorted.

“You do?” Mickey frowned, detaching himself from Ian to see if he was bluffing or not. “You only got the shitty eagle on your ribs.”

“Nope,” Ian shook his head proudly.

“Ian,” he deadpanned. “I’ve seen you naked.”

“Only once, though,” he tilted his head. “And we were too busy doing something else for you to notice it apparently.”

“Seriously?” Mickey seemed to connect the dot.

“I don’t have a dick tattoo, Mick,” he laughed. When Mickey’s horrified face didn’t vanish, he murmured, “Why? You would have been into it?”

“Dick tattoos? No fucking way,” the horrification shifted to disgust, making Ian laugh even more.

“You’ll see it soon enough,” he told him, pecking him on the lips.

“Careful, I might be disappointed with all the build-up here,” he said, kissing him back.

“Oh, you will be disappointed anyway, so don’t worry,” Ian replied, licking the seam of Mickey’s lips.

“Come here,” Mickey murmured, grabbing Ian’s neck as he shifted back down against the end of the couch. Ian didn’t need to be asked twice before laying almost on top of his boyfriend. It didn’t take much time for Ian to push his tongue in Mickey’s mouth, making him moan quietly.

Ian gently cupped Mickey’s jaw, his other hand on his hips as he settled properly between his boyfriend’s legs. He pressed himself against him, as their tongues played together. Mickey bit down his lip from time to time, making him whimper and wanting for more.

Mickey’s hands went south and settled on Ian’s clothed ass. The redhead groaned at the sensation of his butt being touched. He loved when Mickey did this, it wasn’t often, but he secretly hoped the dark haired man liked having his hands on him like this – because he definitely did.

Mickey put more pressure on Ian’s ass, as he was driving him crazy with his tongue. Their groins were pressed against the other one, the growing erections overwhelming them.

“Shit,” Ian groaned between kisses. He almost whined when Mickey’s hands left his ass, but he actually did when they slipped between the fabric of his boxers and his skin. They were burning hot against him.

Ian parted for a bit, trying to catch his breath as he left a trail of kisses across Mickey’s cheek then down his neck. He stopped short at his usual spot, before he heard Mickey quietly laughing.

“What?” he croaked, more turned on than angry. Mickey silently gasped at the feeling of Ian’s hot breath on his sensitive neck.

Squeezing Ian’s butt, he said, “You don’t have an ass tattoo, do you?”

Ian knew he hesitated maybe a little bit too long before saying, “Hm, no.” Mickey arched an eyebrow at him, clearly wanting for more. “Fuck, just shut up, you’ll see,” he let out exasperated. He pressed a firm kiss on Mickey’s lips to make him understand that no talking would be done right now.

Mickey didn’t complain as Ian slowly rocked his hips against his.

Ian’s hand roamed on Mickey’s chest, crossing the hem of his t-shirt, and didn’t wait for any permission to let his hands slip under the fabric. Mickey hadn’t asked neither.

He felt Mickey’s breath catching in his throat as he teased both of his nipples at the same time. Mickey parted from the kiss, throwing his head back on the armrest of the couch. Ian kissed down his pale throat, seeing and feeling his Adam apple bob as Mickey swallowed hard.

He carefully took Mickey’s hands off of himself – reluctantly, though – to get rid of the offending cloth covering Mickey’s chest.

As soon as Mickey’s t-shirt was off, Mickey unbuttoned Ian’s shirt. His pupils were blown wide, the darkness almost taking over all the blue.

 

* * *

 

When all the button were open – Ian looked hot with a shirt, but these were a pain in the ass to take off in situation like these – he didn’t even take the time to take it off properly before pressing their bare chests together.

“I want you,” Mickey breathed when Ian went back to sucking at his neck. He put a hand on the back of Ian’s head, loving the rough sensation of his cropped short hair against his skin. This was Ian, this wasn’t only a fantasy. He was with him and no one else.

He tried get a hold of his hair, but it was too short. He couldn’t stop himself from rutting against Ian, his own groin being pressed against Ian’s lower waist.

He put his other hand on the small of Ian’s back, to keep him close. His skin was damp with sweat there, burning hot. He slipped his hand back into Ian’s boxers, gripping at his ass cheek.

He felt Ian’s smile against his skin, but didn’t comment on it. The redhead slowly made his way south, forcing him to leave his ass – yet again. Wet kisses were left across his chest. He tried not to think much of harder kisses being pressed on the faint scars. His nipples were sucked on ‘til they hardened. Ian laved his abs with his tongue, eyes locked with Mickey.

When it reached Mickey’s waistband, the older man shivered. Ian quickly went back up, a hand grabbing Mickey’s face to kiss him deeply. Mickey was surprised with the quickness of it, barely responding before only their lips touched.

“I want you too,” Ian whispered against his lips. He locked eyes with Mickey once more. Mickey dumbly nodded, not even knowing why he did so. Maybe he was telling him that what they were doing was okay, though, Ian was the one they should worry about in this situation.

Mickey pecked his lips, for the sake of it. Yet, Ian took this as his cue to keep on their making out session, plunging his tongue in Mickey’s mouth. Mickey felt him move around as they kissed, but he was too lost in it to even care.

That, until he felt hands on his groin. The fingers unbuttoned his jeans, unzipped them, before they pushed them down his thighs as far as Ian could reach from here. He helped him by kicking them off.

Ian detached his lips from his, and went back south in a split second. Mickey barely noticed that the redhead was shirtless now, as he was nibbling at the top of Mickey’s thigh, almost to his boxers.

Mickey’s eyes were fixed on Ian, the red hair contrasting between the black of his boxers and the paleness of his skin. Without meaning to, he laced a single leg around Ian, his ankle against his ass.

“You really love my ass, huh,” Ian croaked as he put his chin too near his dick. He felt it twitch in his boxers, the day worth of stubble against his skin turning him on even more.

He nodded, not being able to form words right now.

 

* * *

 

Ian bit down his lip, eyes taking in the sight of the mess his boyfriend was. He eyed the wet patch on the front of Mickey’s boxers, seeing his dick twitching again with anticipation.

He hooked his fingers in the waistband before lowering Mickey’s last item of clothing. His penis popped free, hard and reddish. He pushed them all the way down, throwing them where most of their clothes stood.

He licked and sucked around his groin, hearing and feeling Mickey’s breathing deepening.

At last, he put the tip of his tongue on Mickey’s dick, following the pulsing vein underneath. Mickey didn’t even seem to try to hold the moan and the groan that followed.

He took the head in his mouth, sucking and lapping at all the precum that had gathered there. He felt legs trapping him there, but he wouldn’t mind staying down here all his life. After swallowing these first drops of salty liquid, he tried out fitting all of Mickey’s dick in his mouth. He was short of an inch or two so he decided to add his hand to the equation.

His fingers stroked the part that didn’t fit in his mouth. He wet the shaft with his saliva, starting to bob his head up and down slowly. It had been a long time since he hadn’t had a dick in his mouth, knowing it was Mickey’s turned him on even more.

The salty taste was even more present too soon, in Ian’s opinion. He swirled his tongue around the head before taking it all in again. He teased Mickey with his tongue, putting more pressure around him.

He hollowed his cheeks from time to time, loving the sounds it brought out of Mickey’s throat.

Humming around him, Ian felt Mickey’s hips stuttering forward. He almost choked on it, but recovered quickly.

He was barely aware of the buzzing sound around before he heard Mickey groaning _‘shit’_.

“Ian,” he breathed, whining in spite of himself. “Ian, stop. Gotta go to work,” he rushed to say. The arousal in his voice wasn’t mistakable. Ian looked up, dick still filling his mouth. Mickey closed his eyes in pleasure at the sight. “I’m already late,” he tried to say.

Ian let the dick fall out of his mouth. He cleaned gracelessly the saliva from his chin with the back of his hand while the other one was still jerking Mickey off.

He shot up to press his lips against Mickey’s, not kissing him. “You’re so close, though,” he murmured sexily. “So fucking close,” he continued, hand squeezing his shaft. “Let me finish you off,” he concluded, squeezing harder.

When Mickey threw his head back, Ian knew he’d won.

He went back to his original position and sucked with more intent. He heard Mickey’s breathing being erratic, his hips not being in control anymore. Ian held him still against the couch with one of his forearm against his lower waist.

His other hand played with Mickey’s balls and he tried deep-throating him a few times.

His hair were gripped with strength, despite its shortness. “Ian,” he whined again. “I’m so close. _Fuck_.”

Ian slowed his pace, putting as much pressure around him – reaching the limit between pleasant and hurtful.

“Shit,” Mickey whimpered before his hips stilled at least. Ian felt hot ribbons filling his mouth. He kept on licking and sucking at Mickey’s shaft throughout his orgasm. He cleaned him off all of his semen, swallowing it all.

When the shaft in his mouth had grown smaller – and lighter – Ian let it fall out with a pop. He licked his lips, catching one or two missed drops of come. He cleaned himself with the back of his hand once more. His eyes never left Mickey’s body.

The other man was laying spent on the couch, a thin layer of sweat making his body shine. He was still panting – a redness taking over his chest, neck and cheeks.

Ian smiled at the sight before dropping a kiss on Mickey’s lips.

“This was amazing,” Mickey breathed when Ian laid against his side, his own erection pressing against Mickey’s hip. “I have to go, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Ian pecked his cheek. “I’ll take care of that on my own.”

“Or you can wait for me to come back from work,” he tried, pressing his forehead against Ian’s.

“I need sleep, Mick,” he laughed drily. “I wouldn’t have minded otherwise.”

“Fine,” Mickey agreed. “Running tomorrow morning?” Mickey asked after a beat.

“I think so, yeah,” Ian nodded. He watched him getting up and retrieving his clothes from around.

“Can I still sleep with you tonight?” He asked shyly, as if he hadn’t had his dick sucked by the guy only minutes before.

 

* * *

 

“Hm, yes. Take my keys then.”

“Not planning on going out?” Mickey asked, his t-shirt halfway on.

“Nope,” Ian said, fingers drumming on his bare chest as his eyes never left Mickey. “Plus I have a spare key somewhere if needed.”

“Okay.” Putting his shoes on, he looked around for any missed items. Once ready, he bent over to kiss Ian goodbye. What was supposed to be a simple peck on the lips quickly turned out to be more and Ian was the one putting an end to it.

“You’re already late,” he reminded him.

“They can kiss my ass for all I care,” he retorted.

“I’m the only one allowed to kiss that ass,” Ian said, slapping it.

“True,” Mickey smirked before walking away. Reaching the door, he took the key out of the look and made them jingle, waiting for Ian to say something – _‘hm I changed my mind’_ or _‘sure, go for it’_. Ian nodded, a small smile on his lips.

He left, relocking the door behind him.

He had never been that grateful for the elevator to have mirrors on each of its sides. His sex hair was a mess, and the six floor down were barely enough for him to try to style it.

***

He instantly flipped Josh’s knowing smirk off when he entered Icarus. Some patrons were here, but it was still too soon for _normal_ people going out for a drink to be here.

Those patrons were used to the hatred between the two – at least, coming from Mickey’s side.

“Someone was busy?” Josh winked at him, thrusting his hips forward. Mickey glared at him, but decided to act as an adult about it, ignoring him. “Oh, right. I forgot. You’re obviously the one taking it up the ass, right? Walking funny is your thing.”

“Shut up, kid,” one of the man at the bar said.

“Yeah, _shut up, kid_ ,” Mickey repeated, raising his eyebrows.

“What are you gonna do about it, _faggot_?” He tilted his head. Mickey cracked his knuckles. He craved for a fight. He was always craving for a fight when Josh opened his mouth.

“Me? I would kill you if I didn’t risk jail for it. You’re so not worth it. But if they found your body somewhere one day, I’ll send a thank you letter to the one who did it.”

“Hm, death threat in front of people. Not smart, Mickey,” he smirked at him again.

“Hm,” he mimicked him. “Working for the Russians and being short on benefits every week. Not smart, Josh.”

“Shut the fuck up about it,” the other man instantly spat. He was hyper aware of the crowd being inside the bar. He didn’t need those people knowing about his other source of income.

“Then you shut the fuck about it as well. I’m not showing up at work to deal with your stupid ass, hear me?”

“Fine, Jesus,” he replied. “Someone didn’t actually get laid then,” he muttered.

“Don’t be surprise if you come home with more than one black-eye,” Mickey said lowly, but threateningly.

***

The light in the elevator at over 3 AM was definitely killing him. Those neon lights were way too bright. He looked at himself in the mirror like he had done before going to work. He had purplish eye bags, contrasting with his skin. He looked down at his knuckles, a purple taint appearing underneath his tattoos. Ian would probably give him shit for it.

He entered Ian’s apartment as silently as possible. To not wake the other man up, he guided himself throughout the rooms thanks to the light of his phone.

Ian was fast asleep in bed, taking as little room as possible, on the edge of the mattress. Dropping his phone on the single nightstand which stood on Ian’s side, he started undressing himself. It wasn’t that warm inside, but noting he would be snuggled against Ian’s heat for at least a couple of hours was enough to take his clothes off.

Only with his boxers on, he slipped under the covers and shifted ‘til the other end of the bed. He gently threw his arm around Ian’s bare chest. The front of his thighs was against the back of Ian’s naked ones.

The redhead hummed contently.

“Hey,” he croaked lowly.

“Go back to sleep,” Mickey breathed in his ear. Ian hummed again, putting as little space as possible between them.

Comfortable as he was, it didn’t take long for Mickey to fall asleep.

 

* * *

 

When Ian heard his alarm, he turned it down as soon as possible. Mickey had been snuggled against his back, but at the strident sound, he had moved on the other end of the bed. It took less than a minute for Ian to choose staying in bed over going for his run.

He shifted to reach for Mickey again, placing his head on his upper chest, an arm holding him.

“No run?” he heard. Ian shook his head in a grunt. “That’s not good for you.”

“Oh, bite me,” Ian sighed, hoping to go back to sleep for a small hour.

“Later,” Mickey promised him, kissing his hair before wrapping an arm around him.

***

Ian did wake up an hour later, on his own – both meanings of the term. He patted around, in case Mickey had moved to the other end. He was definitely alone.

He sat up, hands to his eyes. He tried to get rid of the sleep, but the yawn took over him. He stayed there for a minute, trying to let his brain connect.

He grabbed his phone, seeing he had a text from Shawn and one from Debbie. It was 6:37 AM.

[2:57 AM] Shawn Thomas: ZOEY WILL BE AT THE PARTY.

[6:10 AM] Debbie Gallagher: Dinner with your little sister soon?? Miss u xxx

He threw the phone on the covers and exhaled deeply.

“Mickey?” he called out.

“Kitchen,” he heard, making him smile. That was when he actually sniffed and smelled food. Too lazy to look for soft clothes, he grabbed one of the sheets to join Mickey. The man stood by the stove, stirring eggs in the pan in front of him. “Morning,” he snorted when he saw him.

Ian looked at himself in the reflection of the oven, he was laughable. He had a mark of the pillow across his face, eyes puffy and red, and the sheet carelessly thrown around him didn’t help much.

“Morning,” he retorted before clearing his throat.

“Eggs?” Mickey asked.

Ian hummed his agreement before coming closer. “I do have a wife, actually.”

“That’s the only shit I know how to properly cook so count yourself lucky you had eggs in your fridge.”

“I’ll keep them stocked then,” Ian told him. He propped his chin on Mickey’s shoulders, looking at him cooking.

Mickey turned towards him. “Go take your meds, it should be ready soon.” Ian didn’t respond but did as told. “ _Irish Prince_ ,” he thought he heard Mickey muttering under his breath.

“What did you say?” Ian frowned at him in the middle of the living room.

“Me? Nothing,” he retorted, eyes wide as a deer caught in headlights. Ian watched him for a minute before leaving the room, shrugging.

When Ian came back with a sweater and boxers on, he went to the coffee maker while Mickey finished cooking.

He was too focused on his task, until he felt fingers toying the waistband of his boxers. He slapped Mickey’s hand away.

“What?” he asked innocently.

“Initiating morning sex or are you creeping up on me to find some ink below this?” he asked, a smirk on, as he pointed at his boxers. “Because morning sex would have been better without leaving the bed.”

“Fine, got me,” Mickey sighed, but still went on to pry Ian’s boxers away. They started fighting with fingers to ribs, tickle on sensitive spots.

“Quit it,” Ian laughed as he was cornered near the coffee maker – in-between the counter and the wall. He risked his hands to leave Mickey’s forearms, plopping his arms around Mickey’s neck. “That’s shit but you’ll see it soon. Don’t be excited about it.”

“But it’s something new to know about you,” Mickey faked pouting.

“Oh, there’s a lot of things you don’t know about me,” Ian arched an eyebrow. It could be understood in a sexual way, but more intimately, he hadn’t told Mickey lots of things – and he assumed Mickey hadn’t neither.

“I want to know,” Mickey pecked his lips.

“You will,” Ian promised him. “Now finish cooking me breakfast, _wife_.”

“Shut up,” Mickey laughed nonetheless, pushing jokingly Ian away.

***

“Oh, hm,” Ian started, but quickly swallowed his mouthful of eggs. “You’re working this Saturday, right?”

“Like any other Saturday,” Mickey replied, eyeing him suspiciously.

“Can’t take the night off?” Ian kept on.

“Don’t think so. Two days before for a night like this. I don’t think I can, Ian.”

“Well, too bad,” the redhead shrugged.

“What would have been the occasion?” Mickey asked nonetheless.

“Alisha’s throwing a party, and it would’ve been great if you’d tagged along.”

“Alisha is the one working with you, right?” He took the last gulp of his orange juice.

“She is, yeah.”

“Think the party will still be on after 3 AM? Or are your friends grandpas like you,” he teased him, kicking lightly at his shin under the table.

“I’m not a grandpa, fuck you very much,” Ian laughed anyways.

“Who’s spending most of their nights reading and eating freaking soup?”

“I should’ve never told you about that,” Ian retorted seriously.

Mickey chuckled, knowing he’d won this battle. He got up to bring his empty glass to the sink but stopped by Ian. He kissed his temple gently before muttering. “I like you anyways, _Grandpa_.”

“I hate you,” Ian pushed him away.

“Oh no, you don’t,” Mickey said, almost to himself as he rinsed the glass. “So?”

“So? I don’t know if it’ll still be on. I’ll let you know?”

“Okay.”

“Oh, and I did notice the bruises on your knuckles by the way.”

“Fuck,” he heard him muttering in the kitchen. He joined him with his empty plate.

“What happened?” He asked him, pointing at the darkening bruises smearing across Mickey’s knuckles. He automatically let his eyes roam on Mickey’s visible skin – searching for other bruises. He found none.

“Josh pissed me off with his homophobic comments all night long, that’s what happened.”

“So dealing with it with your fists?”

“He had it coming.”

“Some saw you?” Ian asked, caging him by gripping the counter on each of his sides.

“Don’t think so.”

“Good,” he concluded.

***

“So, Zoey is coming,” Shawn started when they were freezing their ass off outside. It was nearly 11 AM and they had been craving for their smoke break. So they had taken it. Despite the cold. Ian almost regretted it, but inhaling the nicotine, he told himself that was worth it. He could see how nonchalant Shawn tried to sound. He arched an eyebrow at him, making the other man sigh, defeated. “What should I do?”

“I don’t fucking know,” Ian told him. “Need chick advice? Ask a straight guy or a chick. I’m the worst for this, Shawn.”

“Right,” the blond nodded. His mouth twitched, his mind was probably racing right now. After taking a drag from his smoke, he asked, “But what if I act gay?”

“ _Gay_?”

“Yeah, I mean hitting on guys or dancing with them.”

“Subtly tell her you’re playing for both teams.” Ian supposed it wasn’t that easy to come out as bisexual. Being gay wasn’t easy, but at least people knew of homosexuality. Most people thought bisexuals were only sluts or people seeking attention. He knew they weren’t. And he knew Shawn wasn’t. He was a bit of a slut sometimes, yes, but that had nothing to do with him being bi.

“And that I take it up the ass when I’m with a guy? Bad idea.”

“What do you want me to say, Shawn?” Ian threw dramatically his hands in the air. “Last weekend you were getting hot and heavy with a dude and now you want to get into _her_ pants. I don’t know how chicks work. Maybe she’ll like you being bi. Like, being more sensitive than straight dudes. I don’t know. You should ask Alisha about it.”

As if she had been summoned, the dark skinned woman appeared nearby. She had a cigarette in hand, lighter in the other. “Ask what to Alisha?”

“Nothing!” Shawn rushed to say. He glared at Ian, pleading him with his eyes to not say a thing. His gaze hardened as Ian’s smirk grew wider.

“Would you mind dating or simply fucking a guy who’s bisexual?” The redhead asked, turning toward Alisha.

“I guess not,” she replied. She blew the smoke away from them before asking, “Why?”

“Shawn –” Ian began but was cut short.

“Shut up, Ian.”

Alisha smiled, watching the interaction between them.

“He’s into some chick but afraid she’ll run if she knows about him. Like he’s some monster,” he explained. Turning towards Shawn, he added “You’re not, dude.”

“Oh,” understanding seemed to draw on Alisha. She pointed at Shawn with her cigarette, but didn’t look at him when she talked. “He’s talking about Zoey, right?”

“How do you know?” Shawn’s face was livid.

“I didn’t, but thanks,” she grinned. Taking another drag from her cigarette seemed like a way too long pause before she explained herself. “She’s pissing me off, always talking about that guy she met. That angelic face with blond locks. I mean, she only goes out for real when she’s with me. You, at least, have that in common: no subtlety.”

“What did she say about me then?” He shyly asked her, throwing away the butt of his burn out smoke.

“Nothing much,” she shrugged. “Said she had no way of contacting him and that she couldn’t wait to see him again.”

“Oh fuck,” he squirmed. “What do I do now?” He looked between Ian and Alisha. The woman shrugged with sympathy.

“I thought you were the father figure between us?” Ian told him, making fun of his nervousness.

“Oh fuck off. You’re the grandpa here.” Ian looked at Alisha, who nodded in agreement.

“Why everyone keeps on repeating this?!” He demanded.

“Hit a nerve?” Alisha poked her tongue at him, laughing with Shawn.

“Nah, just Mickey called me that this morning as well. Anyways, good luck for Saturday then,” he said, patting Shawn’s shoulder.

“Fuck yeah…”

“Is he coming?” Alisha asked, hopeful.

“Who? Mickey?”

“Yeah.”

“Can’t, he’s working. Probably gonna just show up to drag me home after his shift.”

His coworkers connected eyes, as if they were having a silent conversation. At last, Alisha turned toward him, a serious face on. “When you say home, which home are you talking about? His or yours?” A grin crept up on Shawn’s face, and he could see Alisha was near to break in laughter as well.

“Oh, fuck off,” he told them as he went back into the library. The two of them went along with him. Lydia was going to kill them if she noticed the three of them had taken a smoke break at the same time.

***

The next few days were spent as if nothing had ever happened, except for the fact that they spent most of their time at Ian’s place – instead of Mickey’s.

“So, what should I wear?” Ian asked, a couple of t-shirts in hands for Mickey to help him decide. The other man was laying on his bed, looking at him as if he was the most interesting attraction.

“Depends,” he shrugged before shifting on his stomach.

“Depends on what?” Ian asked without looking at him, rummaging through his wardrobe.

“Will there be gay guys there?”

Ian did turn around at this. “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious,” Mickey confirmed.

“I’m not gonna cheat on you at a fucking party, Mick,” Ian retorted, hurt. He wanted to throw an _‘I’m not like you’_ in it. But he knew he would regret it, and that that wasn’t actually the truth.

“I know you won’t,” Mickey said as a matter-of-fact. “But I don’t want them to think you’re free when you’re not. Simple as that.”

“You’re a jealous fucker, you know that?”

“I know,” Mickey huffed, getting up and walking the few steps between the bed and the wardrobe.

“I think the hickey you left on my neck this morning shows I’m pretty much taken anyway, Mick,” he said lower.

 

* * *

 

“I did that?” He asked, turning Ian’s face to see the said hickey. It wasn’t that big, it could be easily hidden. Mickey didn’t even remember leaving this mark on Ian’s body. Maybe that was a flaw of morning mutual jerk off, being barely awake makes you forget things. He wondered if himself had marks Ian had left on his body. He made a mental note to check for them later.

“You did,” Ian confirmed, catching his lips in a quick kiss. “Anyway, I think the only gay guy there will be Shawn. And he’s not even gay, so no worries.”

“Not even gay?” Mickey repeated. If he remembered well, Shawn was the guy Ian used to sleep with before they happened. But maybe he was mixing names. No, he couldn’t forget the name of the guy Ian used to fuck before being with him. That was something one had to remember. He knew he had nothing to worry about from Shawn, but still.

“Yeah, bi. And he’s getting all _high school crush_ on some chick so really, no worries.”

“Oh,” Mickey let out, taken aback. He hadn’t even thought about this possibility. “Yeah, fine, I guess. This one then,” he said, pointing at dark blue Henley.

“Not too sexy, right?” Ian huffed, teasing.

“Not too much, but enough for me for when I’m joining you,” he said, slapping his ass.

“Gotta get in the shower,” Ian told him with a smirk.

“And I gotta head off to work,” Mickey reluctantly retorted.

“Sure you don’t have 5 minutes for me?”

“Ian,” he said seriously, grabbing his hips. “We both know that if I join you, this isn’t going to be a 5 minute shower. And I’m already late.” He wouldn’t have minded getting in – and off – with Ian in his shower, but he knew better. His boss had had his ass later on Wednesday night, having heard about him being late. The guy didn’t trust Josh to handle the bar when there was more clientele, so obviously he was the one to blame.

“Fine,” Ian pouted, taking his shirt off as he walked backwards to the bathroom.

“Later,” Mickey promised him. He closed the distance between them to kiss him goodbye before leaving for work.

 

* * *

 

The party was way too loud, just like Ian liked them. There were way more people than he had expected, but that was probably better. He couldn’t drink much due to his medication, but he knew the limit to it. The beer he was holding wouldn’t hurt much.

He had lost Shawn somewhere within the first hour, being grabbed by an Alisha screaming in his ear, “Dance with me!”

Now, though, he was way too sweaty for his liking but he didn’t mind that much. His friends were having fun. Shawn was a bit playing shy with that Zoey chick, but Ian remembered that the blond was at ease with guys, not girls. He knew his way around with other men, how they worked and how to make them do whatever he wanted. Women, though, were still a bit of mystery for the blond – and even more to Ian.

Ian didn’t know if that was the dim light, or the alcohol, or the music, or basically any element around, but he couldn’t properly see what that woman looked like.

***

[10:16 PM] Mickey Milkovich: You wanted me to come but I don’t even know where you are???

[11:33 PM] Ian Gallagher: Texting you the address right now!

Ian went to look for Alisha, asking it to her. When he found her, half an hour later, she grabbed his phone and typed it out, sending it before Ian could say a thing.

Looking through his texts, he found out that she had added, _‘pretty boy, come around, your man is getting bored without you. I prefer when he dances with everyone! Hurry the fuck up!’_

[12:45 AM] Mickey Milkovich: Why don’t you dance with anyone? ;)

[1:10 AM] Ian Gallagher: My boyfriend will get jealous if he heard of it.

[1:28 AM] Mickey Milkovich: Sounds like an ass.

[1:45 AM] Ian Gallagher: Yeah, but his is so great though.

[1:59 AM] Mickey Milkovich: His???

“Stop hogging your phone,” Shawn shouted in ear, startling him.

[2:00 AM] Ian Gallagher: Ass.

“Come on dance with me,” he kept on.

“What about Zoey?” He automatically asked. Shawn smiled warmly at him, as if he was thanking him for thinking about it. He tilted his head toward a corner of the room where Alisha and that Zoey chick were dancing. They grinned at the boys. “Come on!”

Ian let himself be led towards them, and started moving his hips in sync with the music.

“I’m Zoey,” the unknown woman told him. He squinted his eyes at her, trying to decipher if her skin was darker than his or not. “Japanese father and Nigerian mother,” she told him with a smile.

“You’re gorgeous,” he let out without meaning to. They all laughed at his reaction, but Ian was clearly dumbfounded by her beauty. Even the way she laughed was beautiful.

“Thank you,” she said with a grin once the laughter had died off. “So, you’re working with these two, right?”

“Unfortunately,” he chuckled. Alisha slapped him up the head.

“No, fortunately for me! That bitch won’t tell me things about him, saying he’s her friend. What about me? I’m her closest girl friend!” She laughed throughout her words, but Ian could hear she genuinely wanted to know more of Shawn, but that she also understood his relationship with Alisha. The two of them had always been pretty close.

“Well, which gossip could I say to dirty your image?” Ian started to wonder out loud.

“Don’t forget that whatever you have on me, I know worst things about you,” Shawn warned him, biting down his lip.

“Oh, right,” Ian caught on. He didn’t know what Shawn had in mind, but Alisha – and Zoey – didn’t need to know all the shit they’d been up to. “He’s perfect,” he told Zoey.

“See,” Shawn said with a newly gained arrogance. “They say I’m perfect.”

“But you clearly aren’t,” Zoey told him seriously. Alisha and Ian connected eyes, maybe witnessing their friend being turned down. “He hasn’t made a proper move on me all night,” she told Ian and Alisha.

“Oh, believe me, he soon will then,” Alisha said. She then grabbed Ian’s hand and led him away from the flirting pair. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw them kiss. Shawn was so gentle with her, nothing like how he was with men. He felt a small surge of pride.

“So, do you approve her or some shit?” Alisha asked, grabbing a half full bottle of vodka.

“Nothing to approve but sure, she seems nice. And fuck, she’s beautiful,” he said.

“Yeah, remind me of that,” Alisha retorted.

“You’re beautiful too, Al,” he told her, wrapping his arms around her. He babbled _‘beautiful’_ in her hear, his face pressed against the curls.

“Okay, shut up,” she giggled. “You’re tickling me. Cheers,” she said, holding the bottle up. She took a gulp before saying, “To the big boy finally get it with a girl!”

“Yeah,” he agreed. When she handed him the bottle he refused it. “Can’t with the meds.”

“You’ll have to explain me about that too one day.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Fine,” she faked pouting. “Don’t tell me shit. I’ll be taking shots with the others in the kitchen if you’re looking for me.”

“Okay.”

[2:14 AM] Mickey Milkovich: Oh you do like my ass, huh?

[2:27 AM] Ian Gallagher: Yup, I do!

[2:32 AM] Ian Gallagher: Are you gonna come by at all?

[2:40 AM] Mickey Milkovich: Yes, sir! I’m on my way.

[2:43 AM] Ian Gallagher: Do you really want to meet them right now or can I meet you at the station?

[2:49 AM] Mickey Milkovich: Up to you. Are you okay?

[2:52 AM] Ian Gallagher: Yeah, just super tired. Plus they’re all drunk right now.

[2:54 AM] Mickey Milkovich: I’ll wait for you at the station then. I’ll be here in less than 10 minutes.

[2:57 AM] Ian Gallagher: Okay!

Ian made his way through the crowd, smaller than earlier. He effectively found Alisha in the kitchen. He told her he was about to go, and she complained about not meeting Mickey – as predicted. He promised her that they’d meet soon enough.

Finding Shawn wasn’t as easy.

“You’re leaving?”

“Yeah, Mickey’s probably waiting for me right now,” he retorted. Zoey said something about the bathroom before leaving them. “How drunk are you?” he asked him.

“I’m not,” Shawn answered, serious. “Why?”

“I need you to come with me at the gym on Monday.”

“Why,” the other man complained.

“Remember that the guy on front is always hitting on you, right? And that we said we’d use that one day? I wanna use it now,” Ian told him.

“Go on,” Shawn frowned.

“I want you to let him hit on you and you making think that he’s got a chance just long enough for me to steal the key to the pool,” he explained.

“Oh that’s all,” he said sarcastically. “You can fuck Mickey in a tub if you want water to be involved.”

“Please,” Ian begged him. “Do that for me?” he kept on, making puppy eyes at him.

“Don’t do that,” Shawn demanded, putting his hand on his face. When Ian insisted, he gave in. “Fine, I’ll try! But if you get caught, I’ve got nothing to do with it, right?”

“Thanks for the support,” Ian huffed, though he knew Shawn didn’t mean it that way.

“You’re welcome,” he grinned. “Now leave, you’re keeping Mickey waiting in the cold of November in the middle of the night? Not nice, man.”

“Oh bite me,” he shouted as he left.

“Never!” Shawn yelled before bursting into laughter.

 

* * *

 

Mickey was freezing his ass off. For real. He was used to the Chicago winter, coming home from work in the middle of the night, six night a week.

What he wasn’t used to was to wait, unmoving, outside. He was against a pillar down the station, waiting for Ian to finally arrive. It seemed like forever when he spotted the red hair coming towards him.

“Sorry, I’m late,” Ian rushed to say. He seemed ready to lunge forward and kiss him. Mickey assumed he remembered where they were. The neighborhood wasn’t that friendly. Sure, it was the middle of the night, but they weren’t about to risk something by kissing in the middle of the street. “For later,” he whispered. “Come on, I’m freezing!”

“I was the one waiting, Ian,” Mickey told him.

“Sorry,” Ian said again. “Goodbyes dragged a bit,” he apologized. “How was your night?”

“More interesting with you texts,” Mickey said honestly as they walked throughout the streets.

It didn’t take them long before reaching their street. They were too cold to walk slowly anyways. When they entered the building, the difference of temperature was noticeable – like the difference in the atmosphere.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Ian grabbed his hand, smiling warmly at him. He let himself be led to the elevator in the pitch darkness of the lobby.

Once the elevator’s door closed after them, Ian released his hand. He captured his lips with a sweet kiss, both hands cupping his jaw.

“Sorry, I was late,” he repeated his former words. Mickey chuckled at his behavior. He loved when Ian was like this, carefree.

“It’s okay,” Mickey responded, pecking his lips as well. “Your place or mine?”

“Mine? I promise we can sleep in.”

“Fine by me,” Mickey sleepily grinned, before the ding of the elevator ended their conversation.


	14. Shining like a New Dime, part II.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve had the same four songs of Justin Timberlake on repeat since chapter 12. I guess the one from my ‘playlist’ fitting best here is ‘Like I love You’ (or ‘Rock your body’).  
> Side note: I HAD to cut this chapter again. It would have ended around the 12k otherwise I think.

They wandered in the hallway until they reached Ian’s front door. It was after a long minute of Mickey staring at Ian that the redhead’s brain connected – reminding him they were in front of his home, that he was maybe supposed to unlock it.

“Really tired, aren’t you?” Mickey whispered, patting Ian’s jeans and jacket – looking for the keys. Ian only leaned against him. Mickey moved in front of the door to unlock it and Ian pressed himself against his back.

“Thank you,” he murmured in his ear.

“For walking you home?” Mickey asked, turning his head slightly around to catch the look in the greenish eyes.

“For being here,” Ian corrected him. He caught his lips in a single innocent kiss, pushing the door open. “And you’re not only walking me home. Are you?”

“No, actually not,” Mickey smiled. He grabbed Ian’s hand and led him inside his own apartment – easily avoiding the furniture despite the darkness in the room.

Mickey turned on the light from Ian’s nightstand, only to see the redhead waiting on the doorway.

“Gonna stay there all night or?” He teased him. He tried to joke on it, but he actually didn’t understand why Ian was acting weirdly like this. He really seemed tired, but that wasn’t all. “What’s the problem?” he added, walking towards him.

“There’s no problem,” Ian replied. He took a couple of steps forward as well. He threaded his fingers on Mickey’s chest. He stroked his waist, and Mickey looked up at his face. Mickey pecked his lips softly. “Let’s go to bed.” Ian undressed him, leaving the clothes scattered on the floor, before doing the same to himself.

Mickey watched him moving around – trying to comprehend Ian’s way of thinking.

“Did you not want me to meet your friends?” He asked all of a sudden. He turned around to see Ian, still, his hands having grabbed the hem of the covers.

“What?”

“You didn’t want me to meet them, right?” He inquired for. Ian had wanted him to come, and then pretexted being tired when he was almost there.

“I did, I just – I –“

“No, Ian. Tell me the truth,” he interrupted. Ian sighed before sitting down on the bed. It took a second before Mickey sat down next to him. He stroked his hair before kissing his temple. “I’m not fighting, just curious.”

“I am really tired, Mick,” he stubbornly told him. Mickey held his own sigh, letting his hand down to Ian’s small back. He didn’t say a thing, showing him he wasn’t believing him by just staring at him. After a short moment, he quietly added, “No, I didn’t want to.”

“Why? Do I have something to worry about?” He said softly.

“No, you don’t,” Ian retorted. Ian put his hand on his thigh. “It’s just that, it’s good that way? Why changing things?”

“Me meeting your friends, or coworkers, or whatever they are, is going to change things?” Ian only shrugged as a response. “Ian, don’t be stupid. You told me about Shawn, I know there was something between you two. I also know that it’s over and that I have nothing to worry about – either from you or him.”

“It’s still fucked up to imagine the three of us sharing a moment.”

“You’ll be the one making it weird, Ian.”

“I know, that’s the problem.”

Mickey saw the unnecessary worry on Ian’s face. He cupped his jaw, brushing his thumb against the freckles. “You’re a dumbass who worries too much.”

“Fuck off,” Ian shot back, shaking his head to get rid of Mickey’s hand on him. The older man didn’t let it happen. He grabbed his face again, thumbing the frown away from Ian’s features.

“You worry too much,” he insisted. “You’re gonna get wrinkles here, and here,” he kept on, brushing his fingers on the corner of Ian’s eyes. “You need to relax and stop worrying about everything.”

“I’m like that, Mickey,” he replied, taking Mickey’s hand in his. “I worry. I know I do, and I always did. Being the sort of middle child, often forgotten, makes you do that. It’ll never wear off. It’s been like that for 25 years, Mick. Either get used to it, or just walk away. I don’t want to fight right now.”

Mickey wanted to comment on the fact that it was the first time Ian had willingly shared something about his family. He had told him the strict minimum about his family, all that time. Still, he saw how withdrawn Ian seemed to be. How he had been ready to give up, just like that.

“There’s no fighting here,” Mickey repeated. He scooted farther on the bed to settle under the covers. Ian didn’t move, though. “Come here,” he sighed, grabbing Ian’s bicep. Ian let himself be guided to his usual spot. Once he was laying under the covers as well, Mickey lazily threw a leg over him and propped his chin on his chest. “I’d like to meet them someday, Ian. To know more about you without it coming from you. There’s nothing to worry about. So now, relax. Sleep or I’ll spoon the shit out of you.”

“Is that a threat or an offer?” he asked, looking down.

“Whichever you want.”

“Then…” he muttered before shifting to lay on his side. He grabbed Mickey’s hand on his way.

“Now sleep, _worrier_ ,” Mickey muttered in his ear.

He heard Ian sigh when they were comfortably settled.

***

Mickey unwrapped his limbs from around Ian, reaching for the nightstand. He patted around, looking for a phone. None was on the nightstand. He let out a heavy sigh. He looked around in the dark, searching for something letting him know what time it was.

Not finding what he was looking for, he quietly got out of bed. He walk to the other side of the bed, taking his phone out of his jacket. It was nearly 6:30 AM.

His mouth twitched, his gaze settling on Ian’s sleeping body. He hesitated before walking to the bathroom. He opened the cabinet, and was a bit taken aback by the number and different kind of medications it contained.

There were so many orange bottles, Ian’s name written on them, as if he was a dying person. He wasn’t. Mickey knew he wasn’t. He had never thought about Ian’s disorder that much. It had never occurred to him how big of a part it played in Ian’s life. Sometimes he would see him swallowing pills. Ian would not drink too much alcohol because of his medication. He had never appeared sick to him. He shook his head, telling himself that Ian wasn’t sick. It was only a disorder, it was under control.

He took the bottles, inspecting them. He realized he didn’t know what Ian’s prescription was. That if he had a problem, he couldn’t be there to help him.

He walked back to the room and shook Ian awake as lightly as possible. When Ian hummed sleepily, shifting under the covers, he told him, “You need to take your meds.”

“Dammit,” Ian groaned and started to get up.

“No, no,” he stopped him with a firm but gentle hand on his chest. “Stay in bed. Tell me which ones you need.” Ian seemed suddenly wide awake. It took him a minute to tell him his dosage, probably usually taking the pills out of habit – not really thinking much of it.

Mickey went back to the bathroom and selected the good amount of medication. He then went to the kitchen to fill a glass with water to give it to Ian.

Reentering the bedroom, Ian had turned on the lamp on the nightstand. He was watching him with a mixture of confusion and gratefulness. Mickey felt his cheeks warming at the staring. He sat on the edge of the bed as Ian swallowed his pills and rinsed them down with water.

He settled the glass down on the nightstand, and stayed there – his eyes still on Mickey.

“I should’ve written that down,” Mickey muttered out loud without meaning to. “For next time, I mean.”

“I’ll have my own nurse at home then?” he croaked, his voice heavy with sleep.

“Don’t know much about that,” he told him, pushing him down against the bed. “Now, let’s go back to sleep. I’m not the one working in the silence of a library, I need to sleep.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ian breathed, letting himself being manhandled.

Mickey laid on top of him, smelling the crook of Ian’s neck. “Now sleep. Only wake me up if there’s a fire or something.”

“And what if I wanna make out with you?” he asked. Mickey could feel him smelling his hair.

“Your breath smells,” he replied, the words muffled against the skin and fabric of the pillow.

“Like that’s an –“ Ian started to say, but Mickey put his whole hand on his face, shutting him up for good.

“Sleep, now. Talk or make out or whatever, _after_ the sleep.”

 

* * *

 

[7:01 PM] Ian Gallagher: So, meeting up there at, let’s say, 6:30?

[7:13 PM] Shawn Thomas: Really planning on exercising? On a Monday morning?

[7:15 PM] Ian Gallagher: While we’re there, yeah.

[7:19 PM] Shawn Thomas: Don’t need it!

[7:21 PM] Ian Gallagher: Bedroom sports don’t count, dude.

[7:27 PM] Shawn Thomas: Fuck you. And I hate you. See you tomorrow, fuckhead.

[7:32 PM] Ian Gallagher: You’ll like me when you’ll be surrounded by hot dudes sweating. Or not. Hot chicks sweating? Idk. See ya!

***

“Just remember that I hate you,” Shawn grumbled as soon as he was close enough to hear.

“Stop saying that,” Ian replied, too cheerful for a Monday morning. “So, we go in. Do like we used to. Then, shower time. You get him, I get the key and head for the shower as if nothing happened. Clear?”

“Clear,” Shawn agreed as they entered the gym. Ian could feel the shift in his mood as soon as they spotted the guy working at the entrance. Shawn let his eyes roam on the guy’s body, biting his bottom before arching an eyebrow. Ian laughed quietly at his behavior, grabbing his wrist to lead him away. Shawn’s eyes never left the guy until they couldn’t see him. “Good enough for you?”

“Hopefully he didn’t come in his pants,” Ian retorted, kicking the locker room door open.

“Yeah. Just remind me why don’t you just fuck Mickey in your tub?”

Ian stopped his actions. “That’s a possibility,” he said. “But I can’t do a date in my bathroom, can I?”

“A bit weird yeah, but nothing would surprise me coming from you.”

“Very funny. And it’s not just to fuck him –“

“Oh isn’t it?”

“No, Shawn seriously. I want him to feel good with me.”

“You’re gonna make me puke with all your love, you know?”

“Oh fuck off,” he told him, slapping him with his towel. “Come on.”

***

They did exercise, for real. It felt weird for Ian to be back here. He used to come around often, _before_. At the beginning with his ‘relationship’ with Shawn, they used to come here a lot. Ian was still in good shape back then, trying to maintain his strength from the army. Along the line, it felt good to be wanted by other guys around. He had felt younger, attractive. It had been something he hadn’t felt since his diagnosis. There, he had been with his friend, healthy, wanted. Now that he came back though, he felt out of place. He had given up on maintaining his former shape – knowing how useless it was. He still did exercise, but on his own. Running six mornings a week, push-ups in his own apartment.

He had known that dating Mickey had modified his routine. If he ran once a week now, it was because he forced himself to. Push-ups, long forgotten. Doing these series of exercises with Shawn reminded him of _before_. Before, when he was still trying to find himself, to be someone. He had given up on finding himself, easier to pretend while being with someone else.

First, it’d been Shawn – even though they had both known the limits. Now, he had Mickey. It felt a bit out of place for him to be here on a Monday morning, when he knew that by now, usually, Mickey would be trying to cook him breakfast – to show him he was here for him.

He smiled without meaning too, catching his reflection in the mirror, red and sweaty – a cheesy and happy smile on his face.

He looked beside him, finding Shawn lost in his own mind as well. He had assumed the other man hadn’t come much around here neither. Still, Shawn probably had enough bedroom sports on his own to maintain a proper activity.

He saw the looks they were given by some guys. It was discreet if one didn’t know about them. But Ian knew. Before, he didn’t mind being looked up from head to toes as if he was a simple piece of meat – that was what they were to him as well.

Now, though, it bothered him. He wasn’t a piece of meat. And these guys weren’t attractive. These guys were too tan, they had too many muscles to show off – which seemed artificial. Their hair were always perfectly styled despite them being working out. They didn’t have these baby blue eyes, they weren’t smaller than him by a couple of inches, they didn’t have crude tattoos on their knuckles.

He didn’t want them. He didn’t want to deal with them.

When that one guy became a bit too instant by his staring, Ian pocked Shawn’s ribs – telling him it was maybe time.

“Okay, okay, I’m going,” he complained. Ian watched him go and wink at some girl. He didn’t understand him, he probably never would.

Ian waited a bit, pretending to collect his stuff. He carefully did that, though – not bending over when grabbing his bag or other compromising position leading to him be joined in the shower. He didn’t want to be joined – except if the guy had baby blue eyes and was called Mickey. He found himself missing him, even though he had seen him the night before.

Quietly, he went back towards the entrance. He managed to catch a glimpse of Shawn being led in an ‘EMPLOYEES ONLY’ room. He rushed over the desk, went through the drawers. He found what he was looking for quickly enough and went back to where he came from.

Stashing the keys at the bottom of his sports bag, he went for a shower.

Most stalls were empty, he liked that. He was only taking a shower there to give Shawn more time. He scrubbed his body from head to toes, almost in a chirurgical way. He smiled to himself when he brushed his fingertips over the ink on his skin.

Mickey knew about the eagle and its riffle. He had laughed at him, and Ian had retorted he guessed he was patriotic. He had told him about his past in the army, and the reason why he wasn’t there anymore. It was fucked up, even Mickey seemed to think that.

He didn’t know about the double male sign on his lower back. The tattoo was always hidden under his boxers, almost on his ass cheek. He had been seventeen when he had done this one. It was as long as a thumb and thin. Mickey would probably laugh at him again seeing it. Shawn had.

Still, brushing his fingers there, he imagined if Mickey was the one touching him. He wanted him to touch him. He wanted Mickey’s fingers on him, his soft touches all over his body. He found himself not even caring about bending over for him.

He quietly moaned at the thought. He rushed to shake the ideas off his brain. He rinsed himself and got dressed as quickly as possible.

“Shawn?” he called out loud. No one answered, though. Once his belongings collected, he got his phone out and strolled to the entrance.

There, he tried calling him. No answer yet again. A long five minutes after, the employee door opened again. He saw the guy handing a paper to Shawn, who pocketed the item. He had a blush over his neck, his ears as well.

“Get out of here,” Shawn only said when he reached Ian.

“Got your stuff?” He frowned.

“Yeah, get your ass on the move,” he rushed to say.

Once they were out on the streets, the Sun barely warming up the atmosphere, Shawn let out a heavy sigh of relief.

“What took you so long?” Ian asked.

“The guy has a big mouth but don’t know how to use it,” he retorted.

“So you were getting your dick sucked? For real? What about Zoey?”

“We’re not together yet,” Shawn said, zipping up his jacket.

“Still.”

“Look, judge me if you want. Got your keys?”

“Yeah, I do. Thanks for this.”

“You’re welcome,” he sighed. “Mind if I take a shower at your place? I’ll pay for breakfast after if you want me to.”

“Sure,” Ian agreed. He knew his own apartment was closer to their workplace than Shawn’s. They started walking back to Ian’s silently. After a moment, Shawn opened his mouth again.

“He wanted my number. Gave me his,” he let out with mild disgust.

“Gave you an orgasm as well,” Ian pointed out.

“Shittiest ever. With you – never mind,” he quickly caught himself.

“I’m better at giving heads, you can say it,” Ian chuckled, elbowing him.

“Yeah, you are. But not talking about it, okay. It’s weird,” he said motioning for Ian. “I’m all for being friends, ‘cause you’re my friend. You can still call me at 3 AM ‘cause you’re not feeling it. Or when you feel depressed and all. Just, don’t talk about my dick in your mouth or anything like this. Please.”

“Oh,” Ian let out, taken aback. “Sure.”

“It’s easier if we don’t say shit about it. Like, either in front of Mickey or Zoey – or whoever I’ll be dating. I don’t want them to be jealous when there’s no reason for them to be, okay?”

“Yeah,” Ian agreed. He knew there were no reasons for the others to be jealous, or even suspicious. Still, he remembered how Mickey had reacted. He perfectly imagined his reaction if a reference to what Ian and Shawn had been up to in the past was made in front of him.

***

“Mickey’s not here?” Shawn carefully asked when he entered Ian’s home. Ian even noticed the other man was whispering.

“No, he slept at his place last night. I didn’t want to wake him up this morning,” Ian replied, turning on the light.

“Nice,” Shawn said, almost running for the shower.

“Don’t use all the fucking hot water!”

A hand on the threshold of the bathroom, Shawn smirked, “Why? Planning on doing some dirty stuff with your boyfriend later?”

“You’re far too interested in my sexual life,” Ian deadpanned, going for his room to get changed.

“It keeps me entertained,” the other man replied. Ian heard the shower being turned on. “You could do it in the tub, though,” he said loudly. Ian was in the middle of putting pants on when he heard him. He went to the closed bathroom door.

“What?”

“I guess your tub is big enough for two,” he said on the other side.

“Two of your size maybe. I’m too tall,” he responded, going back to his room.

“You can always find a way.”

 

* * *

 

“I don’t want to get up,” Mickey moaned in his pillow. He vaguely wondered when he had started to call Ian’s second pillow _his_ pillow.

“You don’t have to,” Ian sighed, rolling in bed to wrap his arms around Mickey’s body.

“But _food_ ,” he replied, hoping the redhead would get his point. He apparently did.

“I can cook myself breakfast, Mick,” he replied, kissing his temple gently. He felt fingers threading in his hair, gently stroking it. He almost purred at the feeling.

“You’ll be late,” he mumbled.

“Go back to sleep,” Ian only retorted, kissing his cheek before getting up.

The bed felt empty all of a sudden. He couldn’t get back to sleep, not right now. He shifted on the bed and placed his face against Ian’s pillow, hugging it.

He listened to Ian roaming around the apartment. Pills, water, shower, clothes, coffee, breakfast, Mickey. He might had fallen back asleep – zoned out a bit – because suddenly, he felt hands on his back. The bed dipped and he felt a weigh posed on him. It took him a couple of seconds to realize that Ian was actually sitting on his ass, bent over to talk lowly in his ear.

“You’re staying around today?”

“Yeah,” he croaked. “Mandy’s coming over.”

“I’m leaving the keys on the door then,” he concluded, kissing his temple again before ruffling his hair. Mickey turned his head around at this. He frowned at him. “I’ll come by your place after work, that’s okay? Just get some sleep here,” he said, caressing his hair and face.

“Okay.”

“Don’t forget we have a date tonight,” he reminded him – as if Mickey was about to forget Ian had planned something for them on his night off.

“Any clue?” he asked, hoping Ian would tell him. He didn’t have much luck the night before when he had asked.

“Nope,” Ian grinned. His smiles were infectious – Mickey could feel his own lips moving without his accord. He shifted as much as he could to peck Ian’s lips. Ian repeated the action twice before actually standing up.

“Good day at work,” he grumbled. He rushed to hide his face in Ian’s pillow – he didn’t want to lose this smell.

“Have a good day with your sister,” he called back.

***

Mickey woke up because of the buzzing of a phone somewhere in the room. He was way too comfortable, Ian with him. Wait. No, Ian wasn’t there. He was suddenly wide awake, the Sun creeping its way through the thick curtains. He didn’t have thick curtains. He used blinds, they’d been in the apartment when he had gotten it.

He sat up, and looked around. He was still in Ian’s apartment. That was why he had felt so good and so comfortable. Momentarily forgetting why he had been awoken, he settled back against Ian’s sheets.

He moaned at the feelings, he loved being in this bed. It missed something important, but still. Then, he heard it again – the buzzing of a phone. He sighed and reached for the nightstand. He answered the call without even looking what the screen showed.

“Hello?”

“Fucking finally,” he heard his sister’s voice on the other end. He didn’t reply. “Am I waking you up or something?”

“Yeah,” he admitted, rolling back to bed and sniffing the fabric.

“It’s over 1 PM, Mick,” she said, amused.

“And I work nights,” he retorted, slowly drifting out of his sleeping state. “Why are you calling anyway? Aren’t you supposed to come by later?”

“Yup!” she cheerfully said. “Wanted to know if you had already had lunch. But I assume you didn’t even had breakfast.”

“Nah, haven’t.”

“Okay, well. I’ll get pizza on my way to your place. Better get out of bed or I’ll make you. I’m leaving now,” she rushed to way. He could hear the jingle of keys in the background and a door closing.

“Fine,” he grumbled. She barely told him ‘bye’ before hanging up.

***

The phone rang again, making him curse him.

“Answer the goddamn door,” Mandy demanded on the other end of the line.

“Fuck,” he muttered, quickly standing up.

“Mickey, where are you?”

“I’m coming, gimme a sec.”

He hung up without caring for her answer. He collected his clothes, shoes and keys. He had the decency to put on his t-shirt before walking out the door. He relocked Ian’s front door, smiling dumbly when his and Ian’s keys mixed in the palm of his hand.

He walked up the single story of stairs to his floor. As soon as he opened the hallway door, he heard Mandy before even seeing her.

“Open the fucking door, Mick,” she shouted, pounding on the door.

“Fucking chill,” he yelled back, walked up to her. She paused, her fist ready to knock on the door again, before turning around.

“Where the fuck were you?” she asked, eyeing the items he was holding.

“Ian’s,” he replied, reaching the door and unlocking it.

“You left him alone?” she asked, closing the door behind her.

“Nah, he’s at work,” he replied, heading to his bedroom. He liked that he and Ian had the same configuration of the rooms in their apartments, it was easier to locate yourself. Most of their furniture were around the same spot in the apartment as well – not that they had done it on purpose, they hadn’t.

He got a pair sweatpants out of his wardrobe, mindlessly putting them on as he went back to the living room. Mandy was plopped on the couch, the pizzas open in front of her.

“So you were sleeping at his place, while he wasn’t even there?”

“Yeah,” he replied, grabbing a slice of pizza. “So?”

“Careful,” she joked, “you’re starting to have a grown-up relationship with someone, Mick.”

“Oh, bite me,” he said, mouth full.

“Nah, you might enjoy it,” she said, kicking his thigh. “So, tell him all about him. You’ve been ignoring me for weeks.”

“I wasn’t ignoring you,” he retorted. “I was just busy. And you were too! How’re things with Jeremy?”

“Good, still good,” she nodded, a lazy grin on her face. She bit into her own slice, smearing tomato sauce and grease on her lips and chin. “I mean, I feel like I’ve been living a fairy tale.”

“Cheesy.”

“I know, right? He’s so good to me –“

“I don’t wanna hear about that,” he warned her, cutting her off mid-sentence.

“Shut up!” she hit him on the stomach with the back of her hand. “So I was saying that he’s all good to me. I even had a crisis, like fifteen days ago.”

“And you didn’t call me?”

“Didn’t need to!” she cheered. “I didn’t need to,” she repeated, dreamily.

“That’s good, I guess,” he replied, focusing on eating his breakfast/lunch.

“Mick,” she said, grabbing his knee. “We’re moving on. I know it’s hard, it is for the both of us. You’ll see.”

They kept on eating in silence for a short while. It felt oddly good to be with his sister, even when not talking.

“So,” she startled him out of his reverie. “You tried to skip the talk earlier. Tell me about this Ian.”

“He’s… great, I guess,” he lamely replied.

“You gotta give me more than that, Mick.”

He sighed and cleaned his hands on his sweatpants before sitting up properly. “We’ve been seeing each other for nearly two months now. He’s my downstairs neighbor, as you know. He’s working at the public library,” he trailed off, not knowing what to say to her.

“And you’re in love with him,” she provided.

“Shut up,” he instantly retorted. He didn’t want to talk about feelings, not that early – not when he didn’t understand what he was actually feeling for the other man.

“It’s okay,” she said, patting his knee. It reminded him of when they had been kids and that Mandy had thought he wouldn’t understand that she was actually wiping her dirty hand on him. She wasn’t doing this, this time. She was actually trying to comfort him, when that had been the other way around for decades. “One day you’ll realize it’s okay to be loved. We deserve to loved, Mick.”

“I know you do.”

“And you too, Mick,” she insisted. “You don’t have to hide who you’re with.”

“I’m not hiding.”

“Maybe not this time,” she retorted. “You’ve always hidden. Back in high school, with that _friend_ , you were hiding. Though, I could get it. It wasn’t the safest place to spread your gay. But even now, not a year ago. Mystery Man, who is he? What did he become? We’ve never met him. You’ve never been out with him. Maybe that was his choice as well, I don’t know. But still, you hid. You hid, and you prevented yourself from being happy. This is the first time I’ve seen you having a proper relationship with someone. He must mean something to you.” Mickey knew she was trying to pry information out of him, he couldn’t blame her. But he couldn’t give her what she wanted. She sighed, before keeping on. “From what I saw, he must be a good guy, this Ian. You deserve a shot at happiness, Mickey. I don’t want you to end up grumpy and alone when people around you finally moved on with their lives.”

“You already did.”

“And don’t you think it’s time for you to, then?”

***

[4:12 PM] Ian Gallagher: I guess people don’t like libraries on Tuesdays. Shift ending earlier! Can I come by or will I interrupt some Milkovich siblings bonding?

[4:17 PM] Mickey Milkovich: Interrupt all you want!

“Ian’s gonna be here in like half an hour,” he told her.

“So I’m gonna meet him as the boyfriend? Finally?” she chipped.

“Don’t sound so happy about it,” he grumbled, getting up to go to the bathroom. Mandy didn’t hide her grin when she saw him grabbing his toothbrush. She didn’t comment, though.

“Do you have any news from Jay? Feels like he’s been avoiding us too. And you two were close last time we saw you.”

“Haven’t seen him for a while,” he only responded, keeping it to the minimum. She seemed to catch on though.

“Oh, who’s jealous? His boyfriend or yours?”

“Look,” he said before spitting the toothpaste in the sink. “Let’s not talk about it, okay? Haven’t seen him for a while, that’s all. I guess we’ve both been busy with our schedules and fucking love life nowadays, alright?”

“Fine,” she huffed. “Do you at least know if he’s still with his boyfriend?”

“I guess so, why?”

“Because you’re going to celebrate Christmas with us.”

“ _Us_?”

“Jeremy’s family.”

“Why would I go there for Christmas?”

“Please, Mick. Being part of their family, I have to go there. I can’t go there alone.”

“There’ll be Jeremy.”

“You know what I mean. You get along with both Jeremy and Jay, can I have you by my side there?” she almost pleaded him.

“So Jay will be there?” he asked lowly, rinsing his mouth.

“Yeah, he will. I don’t think he’s planning on coming out to his parents on Christmas so it would be nice to be the four of us, you know?”

“Yeah, I guess,” he muttered. He gripped the sink with both hands, watching his own reflection in the mirror. It was probably a bad idea, but he wouldn’t be doing it for Jay – this was for Mandy. “I’ll see if Ian’s got plans and I’ll keep you in touch, okay?”

“Sure,” she smiled warmly at him. She must have seen the conflict in his eyes. He let her walk back to the living room. He decided that changing t-shirt and putting some deodorant would be enough for now. He could take a shower before heading for their date later.

When he went back to the living room, he saw that Mandy had cleaned the coffee table. She was now pouring coffee into the two mugs she’d found in his kitchen. She set them down on the coffee table when she came back.

“Jeremy is acting weird, though. He’s been on the edge for weeks, but acts so sweetly with me. I don’t know what to think of it,” she let out. Mickey had instantly the urge to smack the guy’s face in before remembering. Mandy didn’t have a ring on her finger, not yet. That was probably why he was on the edge – nervous.

“He must be stressed from work,” he provided.

“I guess yeah,” she sighed. “I hope they will give him a break for Christmas and won’t call him in on his days off. He needs some rest.”

***

It didn’t take long before he heard a low but firm knock on his door.

“It’s open,” he shouted, keeping on his conversation with Mandy. He eyed Ian entering his apartment, some snow on his shoulder. He hadn’t even seen it’d been snowing all day long. “Hey,” he said softly when Ian had taken his boots and heavy jacket off.

“Hey,” the redhead grinned back. He saw his smile wavered for a split second before the redhead put the masquerade back on. He didn’t get it. He should probably ask him later about it. “I’m Ian,” he said to his sister. Mandy grinned equally. “And you’re Mandy, the little sister.”

“You’re the boyfriend making him happy,” she said. Mickey saw the blush creeping up Ian’s neck.

“I guess,” he said, darting a look at Mickey.

“Come here,” Mickey told him, patting the empty space on the couch.

“Nah, that’s okay,” Ian retorted, sitting on the uncomfortable armrest. Mickey got it, now. He felt a tentative hand settling on his back. “So, what were you up to all day?” he asked them.

“All day?” she repeated. “The lazy ass nearly slept ‘til two.”

“You did?” Ian asked him.

“Yeah, too comfy,” he let out softly.

“Or,” Mandy interrupted, “you wore him out. Have you broken the bed yet or?” she laughed. They laughed along with her, but not for the same reason. Mickey couldn’t throw in a _‘nah we haven’t with only handjobs or a blowjob’_. Ian responded for them, though.

“Not yet,” he said. “Maybe soon,” he muttered in Mickey’s ear. Mickey could feel himself growing hotter at the husky tone and change of demeanor. He didn’t understand Ian sometimes – but he did like the surprise he brought.

“Oh, surprising,” she retorted, giving Mickey a meaningful look.

“I’m not a slut,” he shot back, kicking her knee with his socked feet.

“He’s not,” Ian confirmed. He felt Ian’s hand creeping up to his neck, playing with his bed hair. “I should probably set some things for later,” he added afterwards.

“Later?” she asked.

“I’m taking your big brother on a date,” he said, kissing Mickey’s temple as he got up.

“Mickey going on more than one date? What did you do to my brother?” she said, laughing. Mickey didn’t chip in, preferring watching the genuine smile on Ian’s lips.

“I guess he likes me enough for that,” Ian answered, pecking his lips. “Keys?”

“Kitchen counter,” he dumbly replied, too out of it to properly focus.

“Thanks,” he said, kissing him again. “It was nice meeting you, Mandy.”

“You too,” she replied. “Maybe next time it won’t be so quick, though.”

“Maybe, yeah,” he smiled, opening the front door. Mickey watched him grabbing his boots and jacket, not minding putting them on. He saw the unfocused glare Ian shot at the couch before looking at them.

“What time?” Mickey asked.

“I’ll let you know. Bye,” he awkwardly waved with both of his hands busy.

Once the door was closed again, Mandy turned towards him.

“Three things. First, I like him. Second, he’s weird. Three, since when are you fucking domestic like this?”

“Shut up, I’m not.”

***

Mandy didn’t leave long after that. She said she would join Jeremy at his work to surprise him. Mickey cleaned up a bit before checking his phone. Nothing. He was tempted to ask Ian to join him for his shower, but he made up his mind before sending an inappropriate text. They did have a date that night.

He replayed the events in his mind. Mandy’s words, Ian’s actions. Maybe he was actually falling for him.

***

He didn’t comment when Ian asked whether having dinner inside or outside. It was up to the redhead.

“Come on. It’s our night, Mick.”

“Yeah, but isn’t it in your plan?”

“My plan is to take you out _after_ dinner, around 9:30 – 10:00. Something like that. Nothing before is planned.”

“Cook me dinner then,” he dared him.

“Everything to please you, Sir,” Ian mocked him, kissing him lightly.

***

Mickey let himself be led in the dark streets of Chicago. They were both bundled up with thick jackets and big scarfs. Ian was glowing happiness, sauntering around every now and then.

“Gonna tell me where you’re bringing me?” Mickey inquired for, once again.

“Eager much, aren’t you?” Ian quirked an eyebrow at him, one of his hand coming up to Mickey’s hair.

“With you, always.”

“It could almost come out romantic, Mick. Be careful,” Ian teased him. “We’re here anyways.” Mickey stopped to look up, prying any kind of clue.

“A gym? It’s close, man.”

“Not for us,” Ian grinned, making keys jingle in his hands. “Remember when I said I, too, had a place we could sneak in? That’s what I was talking about.”

“The stench of sweat gets you going?” Mickey asked, following him in the unknown hallways nonetheless.

“Not really,” Ian admitted, turning around to grab his hand. He threaded their fingers together. The redhead brought him flush against him, kissing him deeply. He kept on walking backwards, making Mickey follow by the connection of their mouths.

When they parted, a bit breathless, Mickey kept on – just for the sake of it. “Locker room fantasy then?”

“Not me. You maybe?” Ian replied, grabbing his jacket and pulling him forwards when he stopped walking. When Ian looked at him, he shook his head no as a reply.

After another minute of wandering in barely lit hallways and another door being unlocked, Ian stopped and grinned at him. He turned on a switch next to him.

“And here we are,” he muttered. He kissed Mickey’s cheek, then jaw.

Mickey took in his surroundings. There was a small pool on their right, probably for actual pool exercise or some shit. Right in front of them was a much bigger pool. He turned to Ian, seeing the glint in his eyes.

“I didn’t bring swim trunks,” he found himself saying.

“I didn’t want you to,” Ian replied, walking towards the bigger pool. He started getting undressed, his clothes pooling at his feet. His body was lighten by the blueish light coming from both pools. “Come on,” he said, before diving head first in the pool.

Mickey stood there, frozen, for a minute. He didn’t know how to react. No one had ever done something like this for him. He didn’t know what to think of it. His eyes were fixed on the moving body underwater. He found himself walking towards the pool, getting rid of his clothes slowly.

Ian reappeared near him, settled against the edge – watching him. He flicked from water at him, impatiently.

Mickey felt a bit self-conscious about standing stark naked in front of Ian, despite the dim lights and their past. He didn’t hesitate long before diving in the pool – with much less grace than Ian.

The water felt cold against his warmer body. He stayed under water, crossing a good half of the pool before coming up for air. He swam ‘til he reached the edge. Despite the distance, he could see the glint shining brighter in Ian’s eyes. His grin never faltered.

The redhead joined him with a graceful quickness. He caged him by gripping the edge of both of his sides. Mickey’s self-consciousness drifted when Ian’s naked body pressed against him. It felt like being in a dream state. The touches were more pressing, but softer at the same time. Everything was smoother. The kisses left on his neck were wet, but not unpleasant – far from it.

He felt lips on his suddenly. They were cold, but the tongue teasing at their seams wasn’t. Mickey, without thinking, wrapped his legs around Ian’s body – keeping himself above the water.

He felt Ian’s growing erection pressing against his own.

“I’ve wanted to bring you here since our first date,” Ian muttered against his lips. Mickey locked eyes with him. Ian’s usually greenish eyes appeared blue because of the light. He didn’t want to be surprised about learning new things about Ian. He wanted to know everything.

“Ever brought someone else here?”

“No,” he told him. He almost seemed hurt by the question, so Mickey kissed him. He stroked Ian’s hair backwards.

“Ian, I think we need to talk,” he finally said. The redhead’s face fell again. He was ready to untangle his limbs from Mickey’s, but the older man kept him grounded. “You know what we need to talk about.”

“I don’t want to,” Ian retorted.

“I know you don’t. And neither do I, believe me.”

“Why are you bringing this up now? I don’t want to be reminded of _him_ when you’re with me.”

“That’s the problem. I see the way you glare at my couch, Ian. I know why. And I also see how you stare blankly at some places in my apartment when we dare spending some time there.”

“So what?”

“I know what you’re thinking about. But Ian, we’re in our mid-twenties. We’ve obviously been with other people before.”

“I know.”

“You can’t be jealous of it.”

“I just wish I could forget about it and stop imagining _him_ with you. That’s all.”

“Believe me, me too,” Mickey reassured him. “I want you and no one else,” he whispered. When Ian didn’t say a thing, only looked down between them, Mickey insisted. “I do, Ian. Even my sister seems to have noticed.”

“She did?”

“Yeah. And I know you don’t want to hear his name, but even _him_ knew. Even back then.”

“Back then?”

Mickey felt himself blushing. He swam away from Ian, enjoying the carelessness. He floated on the water, eyes closed. He felt Ian’s hand on his stomach, stroking his wet skin.

“Tell me.”

He glanced sideways at him. He knew this was a lost cause. “You probably didn’t know, but I noticed you. Even before even living there.” He swam away again, grabbing Ian’s hand to bring him along the way. “The day I visited the apartment, you were there. I saw you getting your mails out, just standing there. I instantly wanted to know more about this redhead guy.”

“I –“

“No, let me finish. I was pissed at you, and longing for you at the same time, Ian. I mean, I was fucking flirting with you. I wanted more. You would have said the word and I would have ditched _him_. It had to get messy, though. I still do want you. I want to keep on waking up in bed with you. I want to keep on cooking you shitty breakfast and you pretending this is the best thing you’ve ever eaten. I want this and more, even.”

He couldn’t decipher if Ian was crying or not. If the wetness on his face was the water from the pool. If the redness in his eyes was due to the chlorine in the water. He cupped his face, not daring to kiss him.

“I want that, too,” Ian, at last, muttered. He had his eyes closed. Mickey could only assume now that he tried to keep the tears to himself. He soothingly caressed his cheek with his thumb.

He did kiss him then, lacing his arms around him. He pushed him until his back hit the edge of the pool.

“I saw you too,” Ian muttered in his neck next. “That day when you came. I saw you. Then I harassed our landlord to know if you were the one renting the apartment above mine.”

“You did?”

“I guess I was in too deep already,” Ian shyly smiled.

“Why are we making things complicated then?”

“Because they are, Mick.”

“Let’s _uncomplicate_ them, then,” Mickey replied confidently. He kissed Ian deeply once more, pressing his whole body against his. He felt like belonging here, naked against Ian. There was no lie here, no one else. Just them. “I want _you_ , Ian.”

“Come here,” the redhead whispered. He led him to one of the angle of the pool, cornering him once again. “You’re beautiful,” he muttered, slicking his hair backwards. Mickey squirmed with self-consciousness again. He wasn’t used to this kind of intimacy. He knew it had been bound to happen. With Ian, things were like this. With Ian, _he_ was like this. He wrapped his legs around him again and kissed him to shut him up.

Ian moaned at the contact of their sensitive skin. The redhead propped an arm on the ground to prevent them from drowning. His other arm disappeared underwater. Mickey could feel faint touches on his waist. It was almost ticklish – if that wasn’t turning him on.

He pressed his own fingertips against Ian’s shoulder blades. The skin was even smoother because of the water. Ian licked into his mouth, and he found himself craving for more. That had happened so many time in a so short time. Craving for Ian. Craving for his touches.

He sucked on Ian’s tongue, trying to not feel overwhelmed by the situation. He wanted him inside him, near him. He just wanted Ian, but he knew his words couldn’t express how much he did.

“You’re amazing,” he whispered against his lips. He heard Ian groan against him. “You’re everything I could ever wish for,” he said even lower. Ian stopped his ministrations at this. He locked eyes with him. For a split second, he was afraid Ian would bolt. That maybe, this would be too much too soon. Maybe he didn’t feel that way – not yet.

“I l– shit, Mickey,” he rushed to say, as if the thoughts in his brain couldn’t stay in order. “Just _you_ , Mickey,” he said. Mickey didn’t have to hear the words to know what Ian could mean. He didn’t want to deal with them right now, he didn’t want to talk more.

He had Ian. He had him, and he wanted nothing else. He didn’t need things to get messy again, so he sealed their lips once more.

Ian’s hand drifted downward, holding his assfirmly. He found himself squirming at the attention he received down there. Nothing had been up his ass since – nothing Ian related had been up his ass since that only time.

He felt Ian’s middle finger chancing its way between his ass cheeks, stopping before even reaching his hole.

He moaned a complaint in Ian’s mouth, biting down his lip. Ian sucked with more fervor at his tongue. Suddenly, all his attention was back to their mouths. Ian’s tongue licked inside his mouth, tasted him. Ian tasted like cigarette and lemon. He loved that taste. He loved recognizing it so easily. He bit down his lip again before parting, panting. Their mouths were only inches away. They were breathing the same air.

Mickey didn’t mind the strong smell of chlorine, Ian’s own scent filled his nostrils in any case.

He stroked his hair, eyes never leaving his. Ian almost purred at the feeling, making him grow warmer inside. He, then, plunged softly his hands underwater, touching Ian. His bicep, his forearm, his sides. He snuck his hands to Ian’s back, still petting the soft cooling skin. Ian closed his eyes in pleasure. Mickey would do the same if the sight he was having wasn’t making him fall for the other man even more.

He massaged gently his whole back, getting rid of all the tension. Ian stayed as still as possible. His fingers worked on Ian’s shoulder blades quickly before drifting downwards. He let his own legs slide along Ian’s body, allowing himself access to Ian’s small back.

He pressed his fingers against the skin and Ian whimpered at the sensation. Mickey kissed down his neck, leaving open mouthed kisses on the skin before biting teasingly at it. Ian’s breathing deepened, unfocused.

He kept on massaging his lower back, almost going for his buttocks. Ian moaned quietly at the ministrations, tilting his head to the side to leave more room for Mickey.

After a short while, Mickey finally grabbed gently both of Ian’s ass cheeks. The redhead whined louder when Mickey pressed their pelvises together. Both of their dicks were trapped, hard, between them. Ian reopened his eyes at the feeling and seemed to remember where his own hand was.

He crooked his finger, before grabbing Mickey’s ass fully. Mickey groaned with surprise, tightening the grip his legs had around Ian’s. The redhead pushed him against the edge, not leaving any more room. He surged forwards to kiss him, and Mickey took it all in.

“Yes,” he whimpered against Ian’s mouth. “Yes,” he kept on repeating until Ian seemed to get it. The single finger retraced its path ‘til it reached Mickey’s rim. Mickey, too busy sucking on Ian’s tongue, nodded fervently. He nodded, and moaned his accord in Ian’s mouth. Even with a single knuckle entering him, Mickey sighed with pleasure. He squirmed against him, silently asking for more.

He grabbed a handful of Ian’s ass, and the redhead kept on. He pushed his finger in until Mickey felt the rest of his hand blocking the way.

“More,” he only husked before biting Ian’s lip and pulling at his hair. Without any kind of lubrication, he could feel the unpleasant burn of two fingers stretching his hole. He found himself not minding – he was with Ian.

The fingers pushed their way in entirely, making Mickey groan. He pushed against them, before they went in and out within himself.

The feeling was overwhelming, especially with Ian’s dick pulsing against his.

“Mick,” Ian let out in a broken moan. He made him shift against him, taking his fingers out. He brought Mickey higher against the wall, freeing his own erection. Mickey exhaled deeply at the sensation of Ian’s penis between his ass cheeks. “I want you so bad,” he murmured, pressing forward. He kept on caressing Mickey’s waist, thrusting forwards.

Mickey closed his eyes, he couldn’t take it anymore. The water was slowing their movements, but it didn’t take out the pleasure of having Ian between his legs. He felt Ian’s dick sliding between his cheeks, and he craved for more.

When the head brushed against his hole again, he stopped him and quickly grabbed his penis to hold his still against his rim.

“We can’t,” Ian said.

“I’m clean,” Mickey only retorted. He wouldn’t mind the initial burn, he had done with it before. He knew his own arousal was taking over him. The lust in Ian’s eyes didn’t help him much.

“You don’t know how much I want you,” Ian murmured, pressing kisses on his neck. He squeezing his erection, teasing the head shortly. “I do. But we can’t like this,” he sighed.

“Why did you –“ Mickey started asking before they heard a low metallic sound. They both froze before realizing it was only a phone against the concrete. Still, it broke the momentum. Mickey stayed still, breathing heavily. Ian was much more of a mess than him. “Gonna turn them off,” he told him.

He untangled his limbs from Ian’s. He felt naked to the world all of a sudden. He swam closer to where their clothes were. He managed to reach for Ian’s jacket and took the phone which had done all the racket out.

Before turning it off, he saw the preview of a text message.

[10:59 PM] Debbie Gallagher: 911.

There was also two missed calls from her.

“Debbie’s your sister, right?” he asked. Ian frowned but nodded. He swam to him, only to be stopped, facing the message. “Fuck!”


	15. Dark Shines

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: I hope this chapter will make up for the disappointment the season finale (or the season itself) was for you. I hope the lack of canon intimacy (including sex) between Ian and Mickey will be compensated by the thousands of words below.  
> Also, I apologize for cutting again the chapter. The _‘Shining like a New Dime’_ thing is finally done here. Something that should’ve been only a chapter long ended up being three? Well, sorry. 
> 
> PS: Title obviously taken from the eponymous song by Muse, from the Origin of Symmetry album.  
> PPS: I hope the characterization is still on point or whatever.

Ian jumped out of the pool in one swift motion. He rushed over the towel rack by the door, quickly grabbing one for himself. Mickey followed in tow, taking one as well. He just saw shades of black towards Ian’s bottom before the ink disappeared under the effective and quick movement Ian was making to dry himself.

“What’s happening, Ian?” He asked him, worried. Once partially dry, Ian slipped on his boxers.

“911, meaning emergency,” he explained, stating the obvious. When Mickey gave him a sour look, effectively intimidating despite wearing only boxers, he sighed. “I don’t know, Mick. Debbie texting 911, I go. That’s all.”

“I’m coming with, then,” he concluded, throwing his shirt on. Mickey watching him quickly dressing himself while trying to call Debbie at the same time – putting his phone on speakers.

“Nah, Mick,” he said into the fabric of the sweater he was putting on. “That’s cool. Go back home –“

“No way,” Mickey protested. He messily put on his boots then grabbed Ian’s phone. “I’m coming with,” he said, trying to call Debbie again.

Ian stared at him for a short minute, gratefulness filling his eyes. “Thanks,” he muttered. He wasn’t about to let his boyfriend roaming around the dark streets of Chicago at midnight, looking for his sister probably in trouble. Mickey was about to tell him there were no points in thanking him, when the line connected on the phone he had put to his ear.

“She picked up,” he quickly said, handing the phone to Ian.

“Debs?” He warily asked. Relief showed on his features for a second before the worry came by. “No, tell me where you are,” he said, hard. “Debs, stop crying.”

Mickey looked at him threaded his fingers in his hair. He grabbed their coats and looked around for missing items before tilting his head towards the door. Ian slightly nodded, following him.

“I’m coming to get you. Give me the address,” he continued on a fatherly tone. Mickey would smirk if it wasn’t for the worry Ian had managed to pass down to him. He relocked everything behind him, mindlessly following Ian throughout the still unfamiliar hallways. The redhead was still on the phone, murmuring reassuring paroles.

Once they were outside, the cold hit Mickey. His body heat dropped considerably, he almost regretted not having grabbed gloves before leaving his place earlier. He waited by the door for Ian to finish his phone call. It wasn’t long before the redhead came to him.

He placed his hands on Mickey’s well clothed hips, looking at him in the eye. Mickey noticed him biting down his lip questioningly.

“Yes, I’m coming with,” he repeated. Ian slowly approached, kissing his lips softly – unlike how they had been doing only minutes before.

“Thank you,” he muttered against his lips.

“No need to,” he told him, caressing his cheek. He then grabbed Ian’s hand, “Which way?” Ian tugged at his hand and led him towards the nearest L station.

“I’m sorry for interrupting our date, though,” he said, almost to himself as they climbed up the steps.

“Don’t have to apologize, I would have done the same,” he tried to reassure him, squeezing his hand. He was glad their surroundings were empty from other people. He liked that he could act freely with Ian for this short moment. He knew the redhead needed it, but he also knew they wouldn’t have acted this way if the neighborhood had been more crowded than it currently was.

Fortunately for them, a train didn’t take long before showing up. Once they were settled in the relative warmth of the wagon, Mickey spoke again.

“Details?”

Ian seemed to reconnect at the words. He turned towards him, and that was only when Mickey noticed the redness in Ian’s eyes. He could fool himself by thinking the chlorine had done this. He was no fool, though. Glancing around, he grabbed Ian’s hand again, trying to soothingly stroke it with his thumb.

A quick and small smile appeared on Ian’s lips as he glanced down to their connected hands. He then looked up to him.

“She’s at a party, locked herself in a room. That’s all I really could catch from what she said. Debs’ a smart girl, that’s why I’m worried.”

“We’re gonna get her,” Mickey said calmly.

***

Ian led him throughout oddly familiar streets. There were enough distance between them now. Enough to pretend they were just two friends in the streets at night. Glancing on his right, he felt his heart tingle. He remembered this street. He hadn’t come back here since he’d been 9, since _that_ day.

Rhoda hadn’t brought him nor Mandy to get their stuff back from the Milkovich house. The house was barely recognizable, but still, one couldn’t forget the place where they’d been raised for 9 years.

He only figured he had stopped walking when Ian gripped his shoulder.

“Mick?” He detached his eyes from his childhood home reluctantly. The front door looked old, but it had been changed. He noticed no bullet holes in it.

“I’m fine,” he answered the unvoiced question. Ian didn’t say a thing as they went back forwards. They could hear the muffled sound of music not that far away.

Once they reached the right house, the music was loud enough to keep the whole block awake. Mickey vaguely wondered why no one had called the cops yet, but then, there were probably more urgent things than nighttime racket in this area.

Ian threw the door open mercilessly. They immediately faced the sight of drunk, and probably high as well, young folks. Most of them didn’t even look legal. Mickey despised the vision he was having right now. He had been like these kids, south side trash. Yet, at their age, he was struggling between jobs to provide for his sister and himself. He wasn’t getting wasted on a week night.

Someone grabbed his elbow, and his first instinct was to throw a punch. The young girl had been lucky enough that he noticed how harmful she wasn’t.

“Hey, pretty boy,” she purred in his ear, her other hand shamelessly stroking his chest. Mickey had never been so grateful to wear so many layers of clothes. He could barely feel the pressure of her fingers on him.

“Fuck off,” Ian replied for him, upset. Mickey knew that wasn’t because of him. The redhead’s mind was focusing on his little sister, he couldn’t blame him.

“Don’t get grumpy,” another girl was instantly by Ian’s side, as forward as the one clinging by Mickey’s side was. “I know a way to ease up,” she said loudly enough for Mickey to hear. She then tried to kiss Ian. Mickey was ready to push her away himself, he didn’t care about maintaining a straight image here. He didn’t know anyone.

Ian was quicker though, he pushed her away with a strength that would make Mickey worry in any other given situation. Ian pushed her against the wall of the stairs.

“Fucking chill,” she almost shouted.

“What the fuck?” the one by Mickey’s side surged as well.

“D’you know where Debbie is?” Ian only asked on a threatening tone.

“Debbie?” The blonde in Ian’s arm scrunched up her face.

“Little Red Riding Hood?” The girl by Mickey’s side intervened. Mickey only shook himself out of her grip, making her face fall a bit.

“Oh, she’s crying like the bitch baby she is up there,” the blonde laughed. Mickey was glad Ian had some self-control. If a chick talked about his own little sister like this, he knew that controlling himself would be difficult.

“You’re lucky you’re a girl,” Ian grumbled, releasing his grip on her. She must have been pretty drunk, because she didn’t notice the darkening bruises already appearing on her arms.

“Why?”

“I would’ve beaten you down,” he said coldly. Mickey saw him clenching his fists, as if he was preparing himself for a fight.

“Come on,” Mickey only muttered, placing a hand on Ian’s shoulder. Ian glanced at him before relaxing, climbing up the stairs. Mickey wanted to follow but was stopped short by the girl on his side.

“Let them take care of their business,” she said seductively, playing with a lock of her hair. Mickey could see the sensitive broken girl behind this façade. He had seen Mandy pretending so many times when they were in public.

“Go home,” he told her.

“Come on, Red’s left,” she said, taking a step forward. She cradled his face with her tiny hands. He stopped her by grabbing her wrists.

“Go home,” he repeated, stressed both words. “ _Alone_.”

He released her, taking few steps up the stairs before being stopped by a small voice.

“Why?” she asked. “Am I not pretty or something?”

He sighed, then walked down to reach her, this stranger. “You are,” he told her. And she was.

“Why then?”

“You’re too young for me,” he lied. It seemed pretty convincing, though.

“Fuck that,” she threw her hands in the air. “I’m 17, I’m not _too young_.”

“Believe me, you are.” When she was ready to reply again, he stopped her short. “Look, I’m like 10 years older than you, and I’m taken so just back off. I was trying to be nice, but I got other stuff to do.” And with that, he kept on climbing up the steps. He heard her ‘faggot’ but didn’t reply. This wasn’t worth it.

***

Upstairs, he stumbled upon a couple making out – promptly avoiding them. He made his way through the hallway, opening doors to check if he found the redheaded siblings. He just hoped he wouldn’t catch the sight of couple hooking up, he didn’t want to deal with any of that.

No one was in the first room – or else, they were sleeping in the pitch dark. The second room was the charm. He caught the sight of fiery red hair. He stepped in without thinking, and closed the door behind him.

Both heads turned towards him. Ian was relieved, but the girl who he assumed to be Debbie was startled.

“This is Mickey,” Ian told her. She let out a sigh of relief at the new information. Ian brushed a lock of red hair from her eyes, sticking it behind her ear. She looked so much like him.

He then swept away the wetness from her cheeks. Mickey stood frozen by the door, feeling as if he was actually interrupting something. Maybe he should’ve had let his boyfriend come alone.

“Some guys. They were drunk,” she spoke at last. “They just, went over the boundaries,” she told him. She glanced at Mickey, probably feeling ashamed. He walked up to her and knelt in front of the redheaded siblings. He placed a hand gently on her knee. “I defended myself, you know I did,” she told Ian.

“I know, it’s okay,” he replied.

“I just freaked out, Ian. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” were Mickey’s words.

“I didn’t know who else to call, I’m sorry.”

“No,” Ian said firmly. “Don’t apologize for calling me, Debs.”

“Thank you,” she muttered, hugging her brother with one arm. She placed her free hand on Mickey’s upper back – certainly a way to thank him as well.

“You got your stuff?” Ian asked.

“No, my coat and scarf are in the main bedroom,” she replied.

Looking down at Mickey, Ian said, “I’m gonna get her stuff, you stay with her?”

“Sure.”

Once Ian was gone, he took his spot on the bed – adding more distance between them, though.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured.

“Don’t be.”

“I interrupted you, didn’t I?” She asked, pointing at his hair. It took him a moment to realize that his hair was probably a mess – Ian’s too.

“That’s okay,” he retorted. “Really.”

“I know I can trust Ian, I just –“

“Debbie,” he stopped her. “You did good calling him. Don’t go overbroad on this, you’re his sister.”

She smiled faintly at him. She bowed her head before looking up through her lashes shyly. “Thanks for coming with him.”

“That’s okay,” he shrugged it off.

“No, he would’ve probably punched someone.”

“Probably, yeah,” he tried to laugh it off, to lighten the mood. It seemed to appease her a bit.

“Can I,” she started but then moved forward to hug him. Surprised at first, Mickey let his arms limp by his sides. He then collected himself to hug her back. She probably needed it.

It didn’t take long before the door opened again to reveal his favorite redhead. Ian smiled warmly at the sight of them hugging.

“Got her stuff,” he said not too loudly, as if he was interrupting something. “Come on?”

“Debbie?”

“Yeah,” she muttered, getting up.

***

Back to Ian’s place, the redhead brother went to his room to get covers for Debbie. On the walk to the train station, Ian had argued that Debbie had to come to sleep at his place. There were no options to him, she wouldn’t be coming to a home alone that night. He didn’t know much about Ian’s former home, or where Debbie was actually living. Still, Ian had been pretty stubborn about her tagging along with them.

Mickey stared at her for a minute before following Ian into the bedroom.

“Look, I should probably go back to my place,” he offered. He felt out of place now. He didn’t want to be there if Debbie wasn’t feeling at ease with his presence. He knew meeting her had gone pretty well considering the events, but still.

“Mick –“

“No,” he heard behind him. Debbie had her arms crossed over her chest, as if she was trying to protect herself. “Stay here,” it felt like she was pleading him. “I already interrupted you with my bullshit –“

“Hey –“ Ian tried to contradict her, but was cut short as well.

“Ian, for real,” she told him. “Mickey, stay with us. I’ll cook breakfast in the morning if you guys want me to.”

“You don’t have to,” Ian argued.

“I know, but at least I won’t feel useless,” she retorted.

No more discussion was made afterwards. Mickey sat on Ian’s bed, waiting for his boyfriend to come back.

It was a short while before the redhead reappeared and closed the bedroom door behind him. He slumped heavily next to Mickey, feet still on the floor but his body sprawled across the covers. Mickey laid down on his side next to him, his left hand resting on Ian’s stomach.

“Let’s go to sleep?” He offered.

Ian smiled half-heartedly at him before pressing his lips to his. “I’m sorry for our date.”

“It’s okay. Nothing funnier than being groped by underage girls or seeing them hitting on your boyfriend,” he tried to joke. Ian didn’t seem to find it funny, his smile remaining frozen.

Once they were settled under the covers, their boxers being the only clothes they wore, Mickey scooted closer and rested him chin on Ian’s chest.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Shoot,” Ian replied, his eyes still close. The moonlight outside was lightning the room just enough through the curtains.

“Why did you stop me?”

“Stopped you? From what?” Ian’s brow furrowed.

“Well, stopped _us_ from having sex.”

“Oh. It didn’t think it would end up like this,” Ian explained.

“Like this?” Mickey repeated. “You planned on skinny-dipping with your boyfriend but you didn’t think that we would go that far?”

“That wasn’t my plan,” he admitted.

“What was your plan then?” Mickey asked. Ian didn’t answer right away, though. “Come on, explain me. Swimming naked with your boyfriend, what’s the point?”

“Intimacy.”

“Intimacy?”

“Yeah, you know, growing closer. I felt like we needed that. I obviously want to have sex with you, but with what happened, I felt like this kind of intimacy would be good for us. It’s stupid, I know.”

“It’s not stupid, Ian,” he told him sincerely. He thought about it for a minute, before tugging at Ian’s boxers. Ian grabbed his wrist, stopping him.

“What are you doing?” He hissed.

“Being intimate,” he retorted. The grip on his wrist softened. He brought Ian’s boxers down, his own as well, before throwing them towards where the rest of their clothes stood.

He then went back to Ian’s side, throwing a leg over his owns and pressing closer to him.

“Intimacy,” he murmured. “I like that.” He snuggled against him before placing his face in the crook of Ian’s neck, inhaling his scent.

***

Mickey counted the seconds. The minutes. And more. He heard Ian’s breathing slowing down, tell-tale sign that he was asleep. Mickey was restless, though. He couldn’t stop thinking about how vulnerable and alike the Gallagher siblings were. He had images of Ian, back in the pool. He had never given much thought about getting hot and heavy in a swimming pool, yet if Ian offered it once more, he would be ready to go as soon as the words would leave his mouth.

_Intimacy_. Ian was probably right. This wasn’t all about sex every time. It had, effectively, turned out to sex in the end but still. Being with Ian, touching him, feeling him, that was what he wanted from him. That was something he had never wanted from anyone else. His thoughts drifted to Jay, and he remembered. He remembered that these casual touches, most of the time, led to sex. That it had been a way to feel wanted, alive. Having a dick up his ass, someone rutting against him or husking dirty words in his ears – that was how he had felt alive.

Now, though, having Ian against him was all he wanted. Sex wasn’t everything. He wanted all that was around to be shared with him. And that scared him. It scared the shit out of him to know how dependent he was.

He turned to look at Ian, how peaceful he was in his sleep. The redhead had his lips slightly parted, noisy breathes coming out of his mouth. He was beautiful this way, so young and small. Almost vulnerable again.

_Vulnerable_. Debbie had reminded him of Mandy. All these times Mandy had called for him, needed him. Now she had Jeremy, she didn’t need him anymore.

He felt a tingle at his heart thinking about it, not being needed. What would he do now? His little sister didn’t need him. His sort of best friend fucked up his relationship and moved on with another guy. He didn’t need him. Jay had needed him at some point, but not anymore. Maybe Ian needed him? That was probably too soon to think about this. Though, Mickey assumed he needed Ian. If the redhead wasn’t present in his life, he would probably be in jail for bashing a coworker or else, alone in his apartment, alcohol and drugs surrounding him.

He shook the thought off, not wanting to remind himself of the dark days. Sitting up, he decided to get some water – or probably alcohol to make himself numb.

He stood up. Reminding himself that Debbie was in the other room, he threw his boxers back on and grabbed a random t-shirt from Ian’s wardrobe.

He opened the bedroom door as discretely as possible, not wanting to wake up a redheaded sibling. Barely putting a foot outside of the room, he spotted a very wide awake Debbie on the couch.

“Not sleeping?” Mickey asked lowly as he closed Ian’s bedroom door.

“You neither,” she replied as lowly, sitting up on her make-shift bed. Mickey quickly took his decision, and chose to sit on the coffee table – leaving the couch for Debbie. “Something on your mind?”

“I should be the one asking this question,” he retorted.

“Talked enough about me for tonight, I think,” she said, leaving a silence hanging between them. She looked towards the small hallway, towards the bathroom and bedroom. “He really does like you. Even before you two happened, he’s liked you.”

“I know,” he muttered, nodding at the same time.

“He seems to be happy with you. He – he cares about you. I can see that,” she told him, bowing her head as if she didn’t deserve to know that.

“He cares about you too, Debbie.”

“Haven’t seen him in weeks. Months, even.”

“Yeah? Yet he ran when he thought you were in danger. He didn’t think twice,” he reassured her. Right now, he didn’t see Ian’s little sister being insecure. He saw Mandy. He saw his own little sister thinking she didn’t deserve much and would never be loved.

“I’m his little sister.”

“Yeah, so? He doesn’t actually _have_ to care about you. But he does.”

Debbie’s mouth twitched, as if she was judging whether to believe him. After another too long moment of silence, he took over the awkwardness and talked to her.

“You know, I think you’d get along with my sister, Mandy. She was a bit like you when she was younger. Showing the world she was tough as nail, that no one fucked with her. Deep inside, she was still a little girl. Just like you.”

“Hey, I’m not –“

“Yes, Debbie. You are a little girl. I know that we have to grow up quicker, back to where we come from that’s the way it is. But how old are you? 20, right?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re still young. You don’t have to handle everything on your own.”

“Easier said than done,” she replied bitterly.

“You know you have Ian.”

“He got out of there. I can’t drag him back, asking him to deal with _our_ shit when he needs to sort his own.”

“His shit?” He asked, frowning a bit.

“I guess he kinda sorted it now,” she agreed, a shy smile creeping on her lips. “He’s got you. I don’t want him to take two steps backward when he finally managed to take one forward.”

“We’re here for you,” he said without thinking.

“ _We_?” She repeated, the smile reappearing.

“I may not have met you before, but you’re family.”

“Thank you, Mickey,” she told him sincerely. She gently squeezed his knee.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“I – I get if you didn’t want to bring it up in front of Ian, but did they do something to you?”

“Did something – Like _touching_ me?”

“Yeah, or more. I –“

“No, they didn’t,” she cut him off. “They wouldn’t still be alive if they had.”

“Good to know,” he nodded mindlessly. “You should try to get some sleep.”

“Yeah, so are you,” she replied. “Thank you, again. For talking and sticking around.”

“No problems.”

“Ian’s lucky to have you,” she added once he reached the bedroom door. He stopped, his hand on the handle. “He’s lucky to have someone loving him like you do.”

Mickey bit his bottom lip, he lowered his hand to open the door – without pushing it open. “Good night,” he only said before leaving her.

***

Mickey blinked awake, all dreams slowly vanishing from his brain. Few bits still played in his mind. Ian, some water, their bodies pressed, the L-word. He found himself smiling at the thought of _dream him_ being able to know what he was feeling and how to voice it. He tightened his grip around Ian’s body, a reminder of the position they were in. He was pressed against Ian’s back – arms hugging him. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply Ian’s hair. His hair still smelled like chlorine, but that after-scent of cigarette and lemon was so present as well. This scent so Ian’s was still lingering.

He closed his eyes again, breathing in. The memory of his dream cleared in his mind.

_Ian was pressed again him, trapping his body against the edge of the pool. Their cocks were trapped between them while the redhead was cupping his buttocks. They shared the same air. He closed the gap between their mouths, tasting Ian’s wet lips once more. Ian licked in his mouth, breathing heavily through his nose._

_He felt one of the hand leaving his ass, to suddenly feel the head of Ian’s cock brushing against his hole._

_“I want you, Ian.”_

_“I – fuck – I.”_

_“Please,” he almost begged him, but Ian relented. He pushed his way in as he was clawing at his hip. Fully seated in, he licked Ian’s bottom lip before muttering, “I love you.”_

_“I love you too. So, so much.”_

He felt Ian stirring in his arms, waking him up from his reverie. The redhead sighed in his sleep then pushed his ass against him. That was only then that Mickey noticed he had grown hard from the memory of this dream. His erection was pressed against Ian’s bare ass, creating some friction as the other man moved.

He quietly moaned at that. He, then, reached for the bedside table, checking what time it was. 6:13 AM. He shifted to get up to look for Ian’s pills. He heard a groan of discontentment as he stood up. Ian moved and sprawled himself on the bed, the covers barely doing their job as to hide his naked body. Despite the darkness, Mickey could see that the redhead was half-hard. He eyed his sleeping form, biting down his bottom lip.

Still, he padded to the door, stark naked. He barely opened it to glance outside of the bedroom. It was still dark, Debbie was probably still sleeping. He closed the door quietly and made his way back to the bed. Standing at the end of it, he put both knees on the covers. He shifted like this until his mouth reached Ian’s neck, his body hovering over the redhead’s. He faintly sucked at his neck, loving the way Ian’s breathing changed. His fingertips caressed the redhead’s waist. His own erection was heavy against Ian’s hips.

He focused on his neck though, only making his way down when he couldn’t hold it anymore. He licked his way down, getting the covers out of the way at the same time. Ian’s erection stood proud, making Mickey’s mouth salivate with anticipation. He came closer, lapping the very small amount of precum that had gathered on the head or fell onto Ian’s lower waist.

The redhead groaned at the feeling, one of his hand finding its way of Mickey’s scalp. No pressure was put on Mickey as he took few inches of Ian’s penis in his mouth. The hand was just there, lingering on his head. Faint moans and groans escaped Ian’s throat. Mickey wanted to make noises as well, to hum around him, to let him know he was enjoying having his dick in his mouth.

He stroked the top of Ian’s thighs gently as he bobbed his head, ever so slowly. Wetting the whole shaft, as much as he could, he swirled his tongue around Ian – the redhead whimpered.

The still asleep redhead squirmed beneath him, his legs unintentionally kicking at him. He didn’t mind, though. He left Ian’s shaft in favor of mouthing at his sack. He lazily jerked him off while doing so. He squeezed at the head, his thumb brushing over the slit.

An even louder moan was heard in the room. Mickey looked up at him, to find the redhead waking up. He went back to his balls, taking one in his mouth.

The grip in his hair tightened and forcefully pulled him away from the object of his attention.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Ian hissed.

“I thought that was obvious,” he replied huskily. He knew his hot breath over Ian’s groin was the reason why the redhead shivered.

“My sister is in the next room,” he breathed, probably struggling between kicking Mickey out of bed or forcing him to finish him off.

“Then don’t make too much noise,” Mickey told him. He didn’t wait for the redhead’s answer and he dove back to take Ian’s shaft in his mouth. Ian gasped at the feeling, and Mickey was hyper aware about the redhead being awake now. Ian seemed to not be able to stop writhing beneath him. His hands were everywhere – pulling at his hair, scratching in higher back, fisting the sheets. His breathing was labored. Mickey could feel him bucking his hips higher, but he didn’t care.

Mickey went full force on him now. The salty taste in his mouth was stronger now that the redhead was awake. He probably had less self-control when he knew his boyfriend was going down on him – that he wasn’t only having a dirty dream.

Mickey swirled his tongue once more around him, prying for every bits he could lick. He tried deep-throating him, but after a few shots and almost choking on him, he decided that his hands would be added to the party down there. They stopped stroking Ian’s thighs in order to jerk off what didn’t fit in his mouth or to fumble with his balls.

The whine Ian’s let out made him moan around him. The redhead bucked his hips higher.

“Shit, sorry,” he let out as quietly as possible. Mickey hummed around him as a response, not wanting to get his mouth off of him. “You’re so good at this, Mick,” he breathed. “You – oh, _fuck_.” The redhead was a mess beneath him. He probably didn’t know what to do with his limbs. His legs surrounded Mickey’s waist, anchoring him there. “Mick, I –“

But Mickey knew. He didn’t need Ian to warn him, to tell him to get off. _He knew_. Ian’s muscles tensed, he felt them. The taste in his mouth was stronger. Ian’s penis couldn’t stop twitching – craving for its release. At last, he felt hot sticky drops filling his mouth. He kept on bobbing his head up and down, focusing on the head yet again. He chased Ian’s orgasm away, swallowing every remains of it. He only noticed how Ian was pulling at his hair when he came up for air.

He breathed heavily over Ian’s groin, trying to catch his breath. Ian caressed his hair, then neck. He shifted upwards, aiming for Ian’s lips. He knew his mouth tasted like come – _Ian’s_ come – but he didn’t care. He licked the seam of Ian’s lips to plunge his tongue in his mouth. Ian bit down his lip, holding him there by his grip on the back of his head.

He felt Ian’s fingers wrapping around his own shaft – reminding him of how hard he had grown from going down on his boyfriend.

“Shit, Ian,” he breathing in his mouth. His knees felt weak. He could barely hold himself over Ian, his body too spent for it. He put his lips against his, not really kissing him – only letting his lips linger there. “Fuck,” he groaned. He hid his face in the crook of Ian’s neck, pressing his forehead against the burning hot skin. He panted against him, trying to hold his semen in as long as possible. Ian, though, put so much more pressure around him, flicking his wrist in the end.

Knowing the end was near, he bit at the junction of Ian’s neck and shoulder to prevent himself from making too much noise. When his orgasm hit him violently, he sucked at the spot where he had bitten him – trying to soothe the incoming bruise. Emptying himself over Ian’s chest, his knees finally gave up. He laid, spent, on top of Ian. His semen stuck them together, but he didn’t mind.

He tried catching his breath, but with difficulty. He turned his head to the side, kissing Ian’s jaw gently.

“Good morning,” he whispered.

“Yeah, good morning,” Ian agreed, a hand on the small of Mickey’s back.

They laid there, unmoving, for awhile. At last, Mickey made a move to get up.

“No,” Ian complained in a whine.

“I’m coming back,” he chuckled, sitting up.

“Stay here,” Ian mumbled, sitting up as well. He wrapped his arms around Mickey from behind. He softly kissed the skin below his right ear.

“I’m gonna get your meds,” he told him. He knew Ian wouldn’t fight him on this so he turned his head to catch his lips for a short kiss. “Be right back.”

He stood up from the bed, turning the bedside table lamp on. Ian groaned and put a hand over his eyes. Looking through the bedroom, he took a hold of a pair of boxers. With his t-shirt, he wiped the remain of come that hadn’t dried yet. He padded to Ian’s wardrobe to retrieve the clean t-shirt he had put back in only hours prior before getting out of the room as quietly as possible.

He quickly crossed the hallway – well, a two-step distance separated the bedroom from the bathroom. He opened the cabinet and eyed the list stuck on the inside. He carefully picked Ian’s medication before closing it. He saw his reflection in the mirror. His hair was a mix of bed hair and sex hair. He wondered if he could domesticate it without taking a shower. Probably not. There was some dried come at the corner of his mouth, dried saliva on his chin. He put the medication near the washstand before cleaning his face.

Grabbing the medication again, he walked to the kitchen. He had never been so grateful of minding cleanliness as he saw Debbie mixing powder and milk.

“Hi. Good morning,” she said not too loudly.

“Hey,” he retorted. “Slept well?”

“Not that well,” she replied honestly. “But at least I did.”

“Yeah, probably better than nothing,” he said. He grabbed a glass from the cupboard and filled it with water.

“That’s gonna be ready in like ten minutes,” she told him, putting a pan over the stove. “Ian awake?”

.”He’s still in bed but yeah. Gonna give him this,” he motioned for the pills in his hand. “We’ll be right back.”

“You know his dosage?” she blurted out, probably without meaning to – if the look on her face was any sign.

“Sort of? Had to write it down just in case. I don’t want to fuck up with his meds, you know?”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “That’s nice,” she smiled at him. He then grabbed the glass near her. He didn’t make a comment when he saw the bruise that had appeared on her wrist during the night.

Closing the door behind him, he walked to the bed.

“Here,” he said, handing him the retrieved items. Ian grinned at him and kissing him before taking his medication. “Debbie’s making breakfast as promised.”

Ian almost spat the water, choking on it. “She’s awake?”

“Yeah, she was in the kitchen when I went there.”

“Did she,” he started before lowering his voice. “Did she hear us?”

“I don’t think so,” Mickey reassured him. “She would’ve make snarky comments or innuendos, right?”

“Right. Or told you straight away.”

“But she didn’t.”

“Cool then.”

***

The breakfast they shared should have been awkward, or at least from Mickey’s point of view, it should have been. Yet, the redheaded siblings acted as if nothing had happened, so Mickey played along. He did see Ian eyeing Debbie’s wrist, but the older redhead didn’t say a thing about it.

“So, what are your plans for today?” Ian asked, mouth full of pancake, some syrup dripping on his chin. Mickey couldn’t stop himself from thumbing it and licking it clean – much to both of the redheads’ pleasure. He felt himself blushing as he realized that he wasn’t alone with Ian. But he told himself ‘fuck it’. This was Ian’s sister, he didn’t care.

When Mickey didn’t answer the question, Debbie took this as her cue. “I have few classes today so between these and my shift tonight I think I’m gonna head for Christmas shopping. Wanna come with?”

“What time does your shift start?” Ian asked.

“Tonight, I’m on at 6.”

“Can’t,” he grimaced. “Finish work only half an hour beforehand.”

“Too bad,” she replied, getting up and taking her empty plate to the kitchen. “Mickey?”

“What?”

“Coming with me? Or do you have plans?”

“Hm, I,” he started, glancing at Ian. The redhead rose his eyebrows, waiting for his answer as well. “I’d planned on sleeping all afternoon and then heading off to work early to sort some shit out.”

“Some shit?” Ian frowned.

“Josh and the boss. Said he wanted to talk to me so,” he shrugged.

“Well, I guess I’m gonna do it on my own then,” she sighed dramatically. Ian joined her in the kitchen while Mickey stayed at the table, finishing his meal. He was off in his mind, thinking about how Debbie accepted him as family that quickly – not even 24 hours after have met him. He liked her.

Looking up, he saw the siblings talking lowly by the sink. Ian was biting down his lip, but his face was shut. He couldn’t hear what they were saying, and that was probably on purpose. Ian shook his head, and Debbie swallowed hard. She slowly nodded before putting a hand on his shoulder softly.  He swore he heard Ian muttering ‘I’m sorry’ before leaving the kitchen.

“Gonna head for a shower or do you one to take one first?” he asked louder.

“I’m fine,” she replied. Mickey joined her in the kitchen and took over the dishes – shooing her off of the kitchen so that she could get ready as well. The redheads had to be somewhere, he hadn’t.

He didn’t mind washing the dishes. He found himself not hating the idea of doing them. While living with Mandy, they had had an agreement: the dishes were her chore. He didn’t mind doing more housework than her, but just, not the dishes. In his own apartment, he would let it pile up in the sink until it was so full that one couldn’t even turn on the water faucet. Else, he would have Jay to do them. Yet, in Ian’s apartment, he didn’t mind.

***

“I’m going, Ian,” Debbie shouted by the door. The redhead rushed out of the bathroom, only a towel around his waist. Mickey had just finished the dishes. He was sitting by the counter, another mug of coffee in front of him.

“You sure you’re okay?” Ian asked as he walked up to her.

“I’m fine, Ian. Sorry again for last night, I just –“

“Stop apologizing for this, for Christ’s sake, Debs,” Ian sighed. He secured the towel then wrapped his arms around her. “I know it’s awkward with no clothes on but Debs, I care about you.” He grabbed her shoulders to make her look at him. “I’m the big brother here. If I’m allowed to call you, crying, at 3 AM, you sure as fuck can too, alright?”

“Alright.”

“Never apologize for this.”

“Okay.”

“Good.”

“I should be going, Ian,” she muttered.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Thanks for last night,” she told him. “Nice meeting you, Mickey,” she said louder. Mickey nodded at her, not knowing what to response apart from the basic ‘Nice meeting you too’. “Thank you too, for, you know.”

“No problems,” Mickey told her.

Once Debbie was out of the door, Ian relocked it and joined his boyfriend by the counter. He turned the tool so that he could be standing between Mickey’s parted legs.

“She thanked you?” he asked, curious.

“Yeah, we talked last night,” he only said – not actually telling him he wasn’t referring to when they were still at the party.

“I like that,” Ian replied. “You, getting along with my sister.”

“She’s nice,” Mickey shrugged.

“She is,” Ian agreed. He put his hands on Mickey’s hips, drawing circles with his thumbs. Mickey looked up, and noticed the hickey he had left on Ian’s neck. The redhead’s pale skin was so easy to mark, the bruise was already dark.

“Hm, Ian,” he started awkwardly. “What are your plans for Christmas?”

“I don’t know yet. Why?”

“I hm,” he cleared his throat and repositioned himself on the stool. “I was invited by Mandy’s in-laws to spend Christmas there with them.”

“That sounds nice,” Ian genuinely said.

“Ian, _Mandy’s in-laws_ ,” he insisted. When the redhead didn’t seem to get it, he explained further. “Mandy’s in-laws, meaning Jeremy, his parents and his brother Jay.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, _oh_ ,” Mickey nodded. “So I was wondering if you’d be okay with me going there or if you’d prefer me not to.”

“I’m not gonna control your life,” Ian retorted, his grip tightening though.

“I’m not asking you to control it, Ian. I want to be sure that if I go, you would be okay with it. And if you’re not gonna be okay with it, I tell Mandy I can’t. That’s all.”

Ian shifted on his feet, looking down at Mickey’s lap. “Where would you be crashing?”

“In their house there.”

“With him?”

“I think they have a spare room, if I remember well. And if not, I’m always up for sleeping on the couch.”

“Okay,” Ian mindlessly nodded.

“Okay?”

“Yeah, go there. Spend the holiday with your family.”

“You’ll be with yours too, right?” Mickey inquired for, not liking how Ian had shut himself off.

“Sure,” he nodded, but Mickey didn’t know if he was actually saying the truth. He would find out sooner or later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers? Next chapter will take place probably a couple of weeks after this one. Also, it will have ‘Pillow Biter’ in its title. (FINALLY???)


	16. Pillow Biter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote the first half with Britney Spears’ The Single Collection album. I blame C for this. Also, it is unnecessarily sad in some bits but so is life. So, yeah. Some fucked up things are happening right now so I’m taking longer to update, sorry.
> 
> PS: I wrote this whole chapter today (when I say today I mean it's just over midnight and I've been up since eight in the morning) so if they're any typos or mistake; my bad. I'll correct them another day. (I'm so not ready to read 10k right now)

At night, Ian pondered. He was honestly happy for Mickey to be able to spend the holidays with his family – well, with Mandy. He knew it would be good for him to be with his sister, knowing they hadn’t left each other’s side since they’d been kids. But at the same time, he didn’t particularly liked the idea that he would be there with Jay. Nothing would happen, he knew it. He trusted Mickey in this.

He quickly dismissed him whenever the mention of Christmas was made. He didn’t want Mickey to stay here because he was pitying him neither. He hadn’t told him that nothing had been planned with his family, since his family was only Debbie – but Debbie’s family wasn’t only Ian, sadly.

He didn’t have any news from the others, and he wasn’t about to crawl back to them. He forgave people quickly most of the time, but the tension between him and his siblings was way more complicated than a simple fight. It was up to Fiona and Lip to make the first move on him, to apologize for treating him like a kid, like a simple replica of their mother. It wasn’t his fault they hadn’t been able to see that he’d been still him. He was still him, he had just grown up and become the person he was supposed to be. They hadn’t seen that.

He shifted in bed and warped his arms around Mickey. He didn’t want to think of them. No, not when he had Mickey to keep him happy. He didn’t need to have these dark thoughts about his family filling his mind.

Mickey sighed contently in his sleep as Ian tightened his grip around him, grabbing his hand at the same time.

He barely turned around to see what time it was. 5:58 AM. Mickey had brought his own alarm clock to Ian’s apartment few days before, claiming it was easier for them to see what time it was in the middle of the night. Ian couldn’t disagree.

Reluctantly, he untangled his arms from Mickey and rolled towards the other end of the bed.

“Where are you going?” Mickey croaked sleepily, his hand blindly trying to reach for him. Ian caressed it before squeezing it gently.

“Run.”

“Want breakfast afterwards?”

“Nah, that’s okay,” he told him softly. The mattress dipped under his weight as he approached Mickey. He left a small kiss on his neck before muttering in his ear, “go back to sleep.”

Mickey mumbled an answer, but Ian couldn’t understand what it could mean. He left Mickey alone in bed to go change and take his meds.

He suppressed a smile when he opened the cabinet, reading Mickey’s shitty handwriting on the list stuck on the inside. ‘ _No later than 8 AM!!!!_ ’ was written in all caps at the bottom of the list.

When he reentered the bedroom, he saw Mickey sprawled on the bed, hugging tightly Ian’s pillow.

***

A run wasn’t the smartest idea Ian had had. The pavement was slippery, frozen. Snow surrounded it. He could see his breath coming out of his mouth, his lips were frozen as well. He secured his beanie on his head, carefully covering his ears. It was still night out, the street lamps glowing yellow.

He rubbed his gloved hands together before starting running. Not even ten minutes in, the snow started falling again. It wasn’t much at first, but enough to almost make him fall on his ass.

His legs started to ache from trying so hard to not slip while keeping his pace steady. Once he reached the crosswalk with the stack of newspapers, he stopped. He got rid of the thin layer of snow from the dispenser. Through the glass, he looked at the headlines – same bullshit as ever. He noticed the date, though.

_December 3 rd. Thursday._

He bit the inside of his cheek, remembering her – yet again. He remembered how Fiona had wrapped her arms around his seventeen year old self, seeking for any type of comfort coming for her brother while they were watching their mother covering the kitchen floor with blood on that Thanksgiving dinner. He remembered too well the wounds, the blood everywhere – the guiltiness he had felt. Years after, she had finally succeeded to pour her blood on the floor, getting all the life out of her body.

He shook his head, trying to dismiss any kind of thought reminding him of his mother. He still couldn’t stop loving her, though. He wasn’t like her. He just wished they could see that. He just wished his siblings could have seen he wasn’t a Monica 2.0. He was not. He was taking his meds, he was trying to keep a routine – even though having Mickey in his life had fucked it up a bit. His boyfriend was supportive and caring – unlike how Frank was with Monica. He wasn’t her, and never would be.

Maybe he should do something with his life, something meaningful. Maybe he needed some change. Maybe he needed something else to busy his mind. He already had enough on his plate with Mickey, and Jay sometimes as well, but still. Something needed to change before he would start having his mind filled with images of them, of her.

***

When he entered his apartment, the smell of coffee lingered in the room. The change of temperature made him sweat suddenly. He knew his cheeks were red.

“Go take your shower,” he heard from within the apartment. He walked up to the kitchen to see Mickey plopped on the counter, a fresh pot of coffee near him.

“I thought you were sleeping,” Ian told him as he approached him.

“Yeah, well. I couldn’t really sleep with you gone,” he admitted, looking down. Ian placed a hand on his knee, his thumb stroking the fabric.

“You’re gonna be exhausted if you can only sleep when I’m with you.”

“I know,” he shrugged. “What can I say, I miss your furnace around me at night.” He then hopped off the counter, entering Ian’s personal space. He kissed him softly on the lips. Ian cradled his face gently. Even with all the shit they had gone through already, he couldn’t be happier to have Mickey in his life.

“I’d miss warming you up as well,” Ian muttered, not knowing if he was making any sense. He felt Mickey’s lips turning into a smile against his, though.

“Go take your shower,” he repeated. “You’re all sweaty and you’re gonna be late.”

“You like me all sweaty,” Ian retorted, teasing him. Mickey smirked and slapped his ass at the same occasion.

“I never said I didn’t like it,” he assured him. He pecked his lips once more before hushing him to the bathroom.

***

“Have you ever thought about looking for something else?” Ian asked around the filter of his cigarette.

“Something else? Like, the meaning of life?” The other man turned toward him, lightly tapping his own cigarette to let the ash fall to the ground.

“No, not like that. Don’t you ever feel stuck in your own life?” Ian tried to voice his thoughts, but that was harder than expected.

“I guess, yeah,” Shawn admitted. “But what do you want to do about it? Starting all over in a different place?”

“Already tried that,” Ian winced.

“Are you alright, Ian?”

“Yeah,” he dismissed him. “Just been thinking is all.”

“That’s not really reassuring,” Shawn told him, inhaling the nicotine.

“I mean, I’m happy. I think.”

“You think?”

“I am,” he replied confidently.

“But you feel stuck,” the blond provided.

“Yeah,” he admitted, crushing his cigarette against the metal of the bin near them.

“What would you change in your life then?” Shawn provided. “You know you can’t change everything nor who you are.”

“I know. I’ve already tried that,” he replied lowly.

“Think about it,” Shawn said, getting. “Think of what used to make you happy, but doesn’t anymore. Think of what makes you happy and that you don’t want to lose.”

It seemed so easy when Shawn put it like this. Mickey made him happy. Spending his time with him made him happy. Talking to Shawn made him happy. But his life didn’t revolve around these two men, he had work to do, rent to pay. He had to live his life, even though he sometimes didn’t want to. He assumed he must have been in a pretty low phase for thinking about being numb and not wanting to do anything.

He wished he could feel just like when he had started his job at the library: waking up in the morning with a goal. He didn’t have any goal anymore.

***

Later in the afternoon, he froze in the middle of the scientific section. He thought he could recognize this stubble and shade of brown hair everywhere – he’d seen them wild, after sex morning. The anger boiled within him to think Jay had the balls to come to this library to work.

Shawn grabbed his wrist, trying to calm him down. That was when he noticed he had his fists clenched – nails digging in his palms.

“The fuck, Ian?” he muttered, dragging him into the aisle, away from people.

“The fucker comes in here to piss me off,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Fucker?”

“Jay,” he spat that name.

“Jay’s not there, Ian,” Shawn muttered, confused.

“Yes, he is. He’s –“

“No,” Shawn cut him short. As if on cue, the said man stood up and collected his belongings. From where they stood, Ian could recognize him as one of the college student coming by few times a week. He had seen this boy for months, this wasn’t Jay.

“Shit,” he murmured.

“Ian, you gotta stop with that shit. Jay isn’t there.”

“I swear I saw him,” he muttered.

“Ian,” he said, grabbing both of his shoulders. “Stop thinking about that. That’s eating you. Mickey chose you. _You_ , Ian. Not him. He did it on his own. He wants you, so stop thinking he’s going to go back to him as if you’re nothing, alright?”

“Sorry.”

“And don’t apologize,” Shawn told him with a small smile. That hit a nerve, though.

“What do you want me to say, then?” He said louder, throwing his hands up in the air. “What do you want me to say?” he repeated lower. “That’s eating me, okay. This guy is eating me. I know Mickey chose me, but what if he’s made the wrong choice, hm? What if spending Christmas with him will make him realize what he’s missing with him? What if he suddenly realize he’s stuck with a bipolar librarian? I mean, hooray for me, he chose me. But he chose wrong. I can’t give him what he wants.”

Shawn stayed collected, though. He had already heard that kind of speech coming from Ian. Usually, they appeared in the middle of the night with a bottle in hand. “Ian, calm down,” he carefully said.

“I can’t calm down,” he said, feeling the tears starting to fill his eyes. He couldn’t calm down. “I just can’t, Shawn,” he muttered. “I’m stuck, and he’s stuck now as well.”

“Mickey’s not stuck, Ian. He’s a grown-up man, if he wants to leave, he will. From what I know, he’s not ready to leave that soon.”

“How could you know?”

“Just a feeling, Ian,” he told him, soothingly. “Go home,” he added afterwards. “Your shift is almost done, go home to him, Ian. You’ll feel better.”

***

He went home to an empty apartment, though. Everything seemed cold to him. He checked his phone for a message from Mickey, but he had none. Something on his fridge caught his eye, though.

_“The boss wanted me to come early, I guess I just missed you, right? I cooked some pasta for lunch, it’s in your fridge. You were out of smokes so I’m gonna swing by a 7/11 to get some. Keep the bed warm for me, miss you. – M”_

That warmed his heart for only a couple of seconds. It wasn’t even 6 PM yet, but the night had settle on Chicago. It was still snowing. He grabbed the note and looked through his cupboards to retrieve a bottle of vodka. He then made his way to his bed. He got rid of his jeans and shoes and settled under the covers. He drank himself to sleep, reading over and over again these few words.

 

* * *

 

When Mickey came home, _home_ , all the lights from the main room were turned off. That wasn’t surprising, Ian was most of the time already asleep in bed when he came back from work. He quietly padded to the bedroom, only to find the bedside table lamp still on.

He was ready to ask Ian why he was still awake at over 3 AM, before seeing him fast asleep. Mickey smiled, seeing him half-sitting, half-laying. Though, his smile dropped at the sight of the bottle of vodka Ian was clutching at.

“Ian,” he muttered. He made his way to him, dropping the new pack of smoke on the nightstand. He secured the cap of the bottle before putting it on the bedside table as well. He then saw the paper Ian was clutching at. He frowned seeing it was the note he had left on his fridge before going to work. The ink was blur on some parts, tears having messed up the words. Ian had seemed good this morning, a bit off, but still.

He took off his shoes, jeans and jacket. “What have you done,” he murmured, stroking Ian’s cheek. The redhead leaned against the touch, reassuring him a bit. Ian slowly opened his eyes. Mickey noticed they were red and puffy right away.

“You’re home,” he breathed, as if he wasn’t believing in what he was seeing.

“I’m home,” Mickey confirmed, frowning a bit. He pushed Ian slightly to settle in-between him and the edge of the bed. “Are you okay, Ian?”

“No,” he replied after a too long moment. “I don’t want you to leave,” he said so low that Mickey barely heard him.

“Leave you? Why would I leave you?” Mickey honestly replied. Ian was worrying him. He had read a bit about bipolar disorder after their first date. But still, Ian was taking his medication so that couldn’t be it.

“Because you’re gonna realize what a shit-show I am,” he said lowly.

“Shit-show?” He snorted despite himself. He laced his arms around him, kissing his temple. “Ian, I’m a worst shit-show than you are. I can’t even prove my boyfriend I have no intention of leaving him. Ever.”

“You say that now –“

“Yeah, I say that now, Ian,” Mickey cut him short. “But I’m saying the truth. Don’t you dare thinking I’m gonna leave because of who you are.”

“He –“

“No. Stop with him already,” he continued still as softly. “If I wanted to crawl back to him I would have already done that Ian. I _don’t_ want him.” _I don’t love him like I love you_.

“You’re sure?”

“I can always go back to my place, pretend like nothing ever happened between us. But honestly, I don’t think I’ll be able to erase you from my mind, Ian. Whether you like it or not, you’re stuck with me now.”

“ _Stuck_ ,” Ian snorted.

“What? You don’t want to be stuck with my ass ‘til the end of time? Damn, you’re hurting my feelings, Ian.” He tried as hard as he could to make a smile appear on Ian’s face. His heart hurt knowing how broken Ian could be sometimes.

“Shut up,” Ian retorted, a small smile creeping up on his face. Mickey grinned seeing it.

“Oh, me shutting up? Never,” he said, making the both of them lie down onto the mattress. He poked at Ian’s ribs, knowing how sensitive he was there. “I’ll never shut up. I thought you liked it when I talked.”

“I do,” Ian admitted, placing his forehead against his. Mickey could smell the alcohol on his breath. He didn’t like the idea of Ian drinking alone like this.

“Next time, wait for me before downing vodka on your own, Ian.” He didn’t give him time to reply as he put his lips on his. He really didn’t like the idea of Ian being on his own like this.

He didn’t like the idea that Jay was always on the redhead’s mind. He’d thought they were good now that they had talked about it back to the pool. He’d been wrong, though. He needed to prove Ian he wanted him and no one else.

“And talk to me,” he whispered against his lips. “Talk, instead of driving yourself crazy. I’m here for that.”

Ian murmured a ‘okay’ before placing his head against his chest – on his heart.

Mickey realized how scared he was. He didn’t want to lose Ian. He didn’t want Ian to bring himself down like this. He turned his head slightly to smell his hair, kissing it.

“Go to sleep now, Ian. Everything’s gonna be fine,” he soothed him.

He stayed there, watching him and stroking his back, until he fell asleep from exhaustion.

 

* * *

 

Ian woke up with his face hurting, his whole body too. The grip Mickey had on him was too tight, he couldn’t move. He suddenly remembered the events from the night before, hating himself for acting this way. This wasn’t Mickey’s fault.

“Hey, Mick,” he shook him slightly. The arms around him tightened even more, almost preventing him from breathing. “Mick,” he tried again. The other man, at last, opened his eyes. He let out a heavy sigh.

“Hey,” he breathed. His arms loosened up around him. Ian placed a hand on his chest.

“Sorry about last night.”

“Don’t apologize,” Mickey told him. He made them shift on the bed. He hid his face in the crook of Ian’s neck. “I’m here, alright?”

“Alright,” he nodded. He felt Mickey shifting against him.

“It’s already 6:58 AM. You should get up,” he told him softly.

“I should, yeah,” he agreed. “But I prefer staying here for a short while.” He wrapped his arms around Mickey, his fingers finding their way to Mickey’s bed hair.

They stayed there for a moment, soft kisses being left on each other’s collarbone or neck.

The buzzing of a phone made them move, though.

[7:19 AM] Shawn Thomas: Hey, could you come to work earlier today?

Ian read the message out loud.

“Earlier?” Mickey asked, already getting up. Ian only shrugged as he stood up as well.

[7:21 AM] Ian Gallagher: Earlier, as in? And what for?

He saw that Mickey was already off to the kitchen, probably preparing a fresh pot of coffee. He went to the bathroom to get ready, his phone with him.

[7:25 AM] Shawn Thomas: Like, 8:10 or 15 if you can. And you’ll see why.

[7:27 AM] Ian Gallagher: Bring me breakfast and I’m in.

Toothbrush in his mouth, he went to the kitchen.

“No need for breakfast,” he managed to say with toothpaste filling his mouth. Mickey tried to keep his smile to himself, but didn’t manage. It made him fuzzy inside; the sight of Mickey barely awake, laughing thanks to him. He wasn’t that worthless in the end.

“Coffee still on, though?” he asked, waiting to press the button.

Ian smiled around his toothbrush. He walked to the sink, spitting to toothpaste, and rinsed it all.

“Sure,” he said before kissing Mickey.

“Hm,” Mickey pushed him away. “Morning breath,” he told him, covering his mouth.

“I don’t care,” Ian replied, pushing his hand away to kiss his boyfriend. He really didn’t mind.

***

Walking to work, he recognized Shawn down on the bench in front of the library. He crossed the road and, approaching him, saw he wasn’t alone.

“Hey,” he started with.

“Oh, hey,” Shawn turned around, a smile spreading on his face. “Ian, you remember Zoey, right?”

“Hi,” she said.

“Of course I remember her.”

“We were waiting for you,” Shawn told him. “Come on, let’s get inside. It’s freezing here.”

“Hm, sure,” Ian frowned. “Don’t take it personally Zoey, but what are you doing here?”

“You’ll see,” Shawn interrupted.

“I can talk for myself,” she slapped him teasingly on the shoulder. “But yeah, you’ll see,” she smiled at Ian. “Also, when there’s doughnuts involved, I’m here.”

“Doughnuts?” Ian asked, and Shawn shook the pink box he had in hands.

Once they were settled in one of the section, Zoey opened the box and quickly grabbed the one with the pink frosting.

“Hey, that’s for him,” Shawn argued.

Licking her finger, she said, “I was there to choose them and I’m the only chick, I choose first.”

“Don’t worry,” Ian told her. “I prefer the ones without frosting.”

“I know,” she smiled. “He insisted on taking some without frosting just for you. And he insisted on waiting for you before eating them.”

“He made you wait to have breakfast?”

“Yeah? Who does that? Who prevents a woman from getting her food?”

“Me apparently,” Shawn said lowly.

“Don’t worry, you’ll make it up tonight,” she said before kissing his cheek.

“I will?”

“Mhm hm,” she only hummed, looking at him with this glint in her eyes. Ian cleared his throat to remind them of his presence.

“So, what am I doing here?” he asked them.

“Right,” Zoey said, collecting herself and sitting up probably – shifting closer to Shawn at the same time. “Shawn told me you weren’t feeling it yesterday –“

“Shawn!”

“No, let me finish Ian,” she said. “I know what it feels like when you feel like shit and all. Good thing to do is to start over, right? But you can’t always start over. Shawn and I talked about it last night, and we came to the conclusion that getting a new job would probably be a good solution for you.”

“A new job? Where am I supposed to find a new job? This one pays well and I have insurance.”

“And we’re going to this,” Shawn said with a smile.

“Yeah,” Zoey agreed. “See, I’m working for a life insurance company. Nothing really thrilling I know. But, a new head of department has been named last week, meaning he’ll need his own secretary or PA or whatever.”

“And you want me to do this?” Ian replied, puzzled. How being someone’s secretary could be better than working at the library?

“They’re going to start with the interviews next week. I could have you one if you want to,” she shrugged.

“Think about it,” Shawn said. “It’ll be better paid than in here – I checked. You’ll actually do something with you day and the hours aren’t that bad. That’s a good opportunity, Ian. Maybe that’s what you need.”

Ian looked between them, thoughtful. Before he could say something, Zoey talked again.

“I’ll leave you to think about it, Ian. But really, you can just try. There’s no promise behind it, you might not even get the job if you go there, you know. Think about it,” she smiled at him. She then turned towards Shawn. “I need to go otherwise I’ll get late.”

“See you tonight?”

“Yeah,” she confirmed, kissing his lips. She then smoothed out her skirt before grabbing her coat. “Keep me in touch,” she told Ian.

He only nodded.

“I didn’t tell her everything,” Shawn said lowly. Ian settled his eyes on him. “I didn’t know what to do so I told her the main stuff so that I had another point of view on what was happening with you.”

“Is that all?”

“Yeah, that’s all. And really, maybe doing something else than staying in this maddening silence will be good for you. I mean, I get that being a secretary isn’t that gratifying, but it’s probably better than what we’re paid to do right now.

“You’re sure?”

“I’m not, Ian. I’m really not. But that’s worse the shot, right? I mean, you need something to change in your life right now, and that’s probably the only thing you can change.”

“I’ll think about it,” Ian concluded.

***

On Saturday morning, when Mickey was still sleeping, snuggled against him, he texted Shawn. He told him to get him an interview with Zoey’s boss – that he’d give it a shot.

On Satuday afternoon, Ian was alone. Mickey had to go to Mandy’s and he hadn’t wanted to tag along. He received a response from Shawn.

[4:04 PM] Shawn Thomas: Monday at 6:30 PM there. Zoey will text you the address.

He didn’t talk about it to Mickey when he came back that night. He didn’t tell him the next day neither, knowing the troubles the other man was having at work.

He didn’t remember the last time he had felt stressed like that. He was on the edge throughout the weekend, despite Mickey trying to relax him. Even a morning blowjob from his boyfriend hadn’t calmed him.

He had tried to do more, the groping intensifying, but he couldn’t. His mind was working too much for him to focus on pleasuring Mickey. His boyfriend was oblivious to it. He didn’t know why they were delaying having sex like this. They had made it pretty clear that it hadn’t been a good idea from the start, yet they hadn’t rushed to finally have some relief. To Ian, the moment was never good. He wanted it to be special, no matter how cheesy that sounded to his own ears. And he knew that it was the same thing to Mickey. Despite not saying it out loud, Mickey never pushed for them to have sex. They always stopped before it went too far, or settled for sucking each other off – never asking for more. They both wanted more, though.

 

* * *

 

Mickey didn’t know what was up with Ian. He seemed pleasantly stressed. He was glad he wasn’t moping or drinking on his own. Apparently, his doubts had vanished. He wouldn’t complain about it. Yet, right now in bed, his redhead was jittery. He had almost gotten a kick to the balls when he had slipping in bed.

He knew how to calm him, though. He made him lie down on his back, not even waking him up. He caressed his skin under the covers. He smiled to himself, feeling that Ian hadn’t kept his t-shirt on to go to bed. His hair was a mess. He had probably gone to bed right after his shower, if the smell of soap that lingered on his body was any sign.

He kept on stroking his chest, scouting closer to him. His abs weren’t that defined anymore, but that didn’t disappoint him. Ian’s body was perfect to him.

He started mouthing at his neck, just below his ear. Ian exhaled heavily, but his whole body seemed to relax under his touch. The redhead then moaned under his breath when Mickey placed his hand in his boxers. He palmed his penis gently. Ian wasn’t even half-hard, but he didn’t mind.

Ian suddenly moved, mumbling unintelligible words. He sprawled himself on top of Mickey, hiding his face in his neck. For a split second, Mickey had thought he had woken up. He then heard Ian’s soft snore near his ear. He decided to retrieve his hand from its trap between their bodies – and from Ian’s underwear.

At the loss, the redhead grumbled something – probably a complaint if he had to guess. Mickey decided to settle it on his buttock. He slipped it underneath the fabric yet again, his palm fitting perfectly against Ian’s skin. His boyfriend sighed again and stayed still. He only moved to intertwine their limbs even more.

***

He drifted awake, hearing Ian muttering things. Then, he felt an erection pressed against his hip. Adding to this, he realized his hand way still down Ian’s boxers. Without even opening his eyes, he started chuckling.

“Good morning you two,” he then croaked.

“That’s not funny,” Ian complained, burying in head in the pillows even more.

“Never said it was,” Mickey retorted. He squeezed Ian’s buttock, making his boyfriend turn his head towards him. “Good morning,” he repeated in a whisper.

Ian approached his lips to kiss him, muttering a ‘good morning’ in his mouth. Mickey didn’t care about Ian’s morning breath. Sure, that wasn’t the most pleasant thing, but knowing he was there with him without anyone disturbing them, he liked it. He licked the seam of Ian’s lips, making him open his mouth. Ian moaned in his mouth as their tongue touched.

He grabbed the back of Ian’s neck, making them roll in bed. He settled with his knees on both sides of Ian’s waist. His groin was pressed against Ian’s lower waist, and he could feel Ian’s erection, trying to get free from his boxers, against his ass.

Ian put his hands on his hips, anchoring him there as his tongue was still playing with Mickey’s.

Mickey let his hands roam on Ian’s upper chest – loving the way it made him react.

They were stopped way too soon, though, as the buzzing of a phone startled them. Ian sighed and let his head drop against the pillow. Mickey fumbled around to grab the phone.

“Shit,” he muttered.

“What?” And Mickey showed him. He showed him that the buzzing what Ian’s alarm, on snooze. It was 8 AM. “Shit,” he said louder. He expertly got rid of Mickey on him before running to the bathroom. “Text Shawn, tell him I’ll be late, please.”

“Sure.”

He settled back on the bed and unlocked Ian’s phone.

[8:01 AM] Ian Gallagher: Ian just ran to the bathroom to take his shower. He’ll be late.

[8:03 AM] Shawn Thomas: Want me to get him breakfast?

[8:06 AM] Ian Gallagher: You get him breakfast often?

“Mick, coffee?”

“Shit,” he muttered. “Shawn will get you one,” he shouted back for Ian to hear from within the bathroom.

[8:08 AM] Ian Gallagher: Get him coffee as well.

[8:11 AM] Shawn Thomas: Fine, but he better pay me back. And no, I don’t.

[8:12 AM] Shawn Thomas: Did he tell you about tonight btw?

“What’s tonight?” he asked loudly for Ian.

When no response was heard, he stood up and walked to the bathroom. Ian’s hair was wild and he had his toothbrush in his mouth. Mickey let him finish brushing his teeth before repeating himself.

“What’s tonight?”

“Oh, hm, there’s a reunion thing so I’ll get home late. Totally forgot to tell you,” he rushed to say, going to the bedroom. He put on the first clothes he found.

[8:14 AM] Ian Gallagher: He just did.

“You’ll keep me in touch?”

“Of course I will,” he smiled softly at him, mid-way putting on his socks.

“Shawn’s gonna get you breakfast and coffee. He said you’d better pay him back,” he told him, slipping the phone in the pocket of his coat.

“Thanks,” Ian said, quickly pecking him on the lips.

“You’re welcome,” Mickey breathed, seeing his boyfriend rushing out the door. He barely had the time to see Ian had grabbed a bag, filled with – filled with what? Whatever.

He settled back in bed, hoping to get few more hours of sleep. He loved smelling the sheets, Ian’s scent filling his noise. He tried to remember the last time he’d slept in his own bed upstairs. He couldn’t remember. He was better here anyways.

***

He woke up about four hours after, the sun lightning the room – the curtains not having been drawn the night before. He reached for his phone. The small green dot was flickering, signaling a message – or several.

[8:48 AM] Ian Gallagher: Thanks for this morning, you rock!

[10:11 AM] Mandy Milkovich: Forget the train, Jeremy will drive us there on the morning of the 23 and will bring us back in Chicago on the evening of the 25 or something. Fine by you?

Right, Christmas. He had promised Mandy he would come – even though, nowadays, he just wanted to stay with Ian. When he had agreed to this, he hadn’t known they were actually going out of town. He had thought they would go to their house, most likely spending the night there just in case. He hadn’t thought they would be brought to a place even more north. Jeremy’s family – Jay’s – apparently had a house in the countryside and they would spend the holiday there. That didn’t make him want to go more.

He rolled in the sheets, filling himself with Ian’s scent.

[12:04 PM] Mickey Milkovich: Good luck for tonight. Hope Shawn’s breakfast was good enough for you.

[12:05 PM] Mickey Milkovich: Alright.

He went to the kitchen, grabbed the first leftovers he saw and put them into the microwave.

[12:07 PM] Ian Gallagher: Thank you! And you know, doughnuts/black coffee. Nothing extravagant or anything.

Once his meal heated, he plopped on the couch – Ian’s couch. He drew the cover on him before turning on the TV – only having it as a background noise.

[12:09 PM] Mickey Milkovich: Don’t like doughnuts?

[12:13 PM] Ian Gallagher: I got used to eggs in the morning now. Wonder thanks to whom.

[12:15 PM] Mickey Milkovich: Told you I couldn’t cook for shit. I’m eating what was left of the potatoes you made yesterday btw.

[12:18 PM] Ian Gallagher: Who said I was complaining? Still, I’ll show you how to cook other stuff one day. And you’re not eating everything, are you?

[12:23 PM] Mickey Milkovich: Too late?

[12:24 PM] Ian Gallagher: Fuck. For once I didn’t fuck up with the cream.

[12:28 PM] Mickey Milkovich: Yeah well you understand why I ate everything then.

[12:29 PM] Mickey Milkovich: I’m cooking you dinner tomorrow if you want to.

[12:32 PM] Ian Gallagher: I’m saving this text! And yes, you cook me dinner!

[12:36 PM] Mickey Milkovich: Gimme ideas.

[12:40 PM] Ian Gallagher: That’s part of what’s hard in cooking: finding what to cook. Good luck! You know I love mostly everything anyways.

[12:41 PM] Mickey Milkovich: I hate you.

[12:43 PM] Ian Gallagher: No, you don’t!

[12:45 PM] Mickey Milkovich: I don’t. But you suck.

[12:48 PM] Ian Gallagher: I miss you too, Mick.

[12:51 PM] Mickey Milkovich: Shut up, you saw me this morning.

[12:54 PM] Ian Gallagher: Yeah? And who’s snuggled on my couch under the cover and texting me right now?

Mickey threw the covers away at that, dropping the bowl on the coffee table.

[1:00 PM] Mickey Milkovich: I’m not. And you still suck. See you tonight whenever you’ll come home.

[1:02 PM] Ian Gallagher: Yeah, tonight Mick!

***

That night, he didn’t like the idea of going to work without having seen Ian in-between. He had waited until the very last minute to leave – 6:45 PM.

He had walked in Icarus late, but he didn’t care anymore. He was tired of all the shit that was put on him. First, all the scandal with Josh had been his fault according to everyone around. Apparently, the asshole had been liked enough by some patrons for them to take his defense when shit had hit the fan. Shit hitting the fan being Mickey’s boss asking him, yet again, to cover for Josh’s mistakes. He was tired of cleaning up after people. He had said so to his boss – and the fortysomething had cut his pay as a thank-you. If he hadn’t been attached to this bar and the people coming in, he would’ve thrown it all away. Also, he sadly knew it wasn’t that easy to find another job that quickly.

He had pondered that night, though. When his boss had told him to just leave already, he had wanted to agree with him only to find a job with a schedule fitting Ian’s. He was physically exhausted from sleeping about five hours per night, and the couple of ones he was with Ian only being useful for him to rest. He had become so dependent to Ian.

Still, Josh had been fired in the end. That could have been a good thing for Mickey, except for the fact that his boss had decided to not hire anyone until the next year. He had been supposed to do the job of two person for over a week now. He wanted to snap at everyone and everything – except when he came home to Ian.

He hadn’t told his redhead yet about the shit happening at work. Well, he knew shits were happening but he didn’t know for sure his coworker had been fired. Ian had already too much on his plate, he didn’t want him to worry about him.

He took his place behind the counter, barely noticing that someone was already there.

“What are you doing here?” he heard behind him. Ed was making his way to him, a stack of paper in hand and a pencil behind his ear.

“I’m coming in for work,” he told him as if he was stupid. “My shift starts at 7, remember?”

“Yeah, well, you would’ve been late,” Ed replied, glancing at his watch. He then made his way towards the other end of the bar.

“What do you mean ‘would have’?” He immediately caught on, following his boss.

“Greg and Paul are there for winter break so you don’t have to stay.”

“Greg – what the hell, Ed? They’re not even 21,” he retorted. “You can’ let them work here just because they’re your nephews.”

“Oh, I can’t?” Ed turned towards him at least, adopting a menacing tone.

“So what? They’re taking my job for winter break? That’s what you’re saying?” Mickey snapped.

“I’m saying we don’t need you tonight. I’ll call you when needed.”

“Are you really doing this?” Mickey asked him. He had followed him ‘til the storage room. They were only the two of them. “I’ve helped you when you needed help. I got rid of the ones messing with your business. And as thank you I get less paid and get my shifts stolen by college students? You’ve got to be kidding me, Ed.”

“Look, Mickey. Go home. I’ll call you when a shift will be available for you.”

“Look, Ed,” he mimicked him. “If the next shift is more than a week away from today, you can forget about me. I need the money. I don’t know what I did to piss you off, but I sure as shit don’t deserve what the fuck you’re doing to me.”

“Mick –“

“No, go fuck yourself, Ed. Just – Go fuck yourself,” he finished before storming out of the room and the bar itself.

***

He grumbled all his way home, chain-smoking. At any other given time, he wouldn’t have minded coming home early. He would be coming home to Ian, to spend the night with him. But it had to be the night Ian wasn’t there. His redhead hadn’t texted him to tell him he was home or anything else so he assumed he was still at this reunion bullshit thing.

Arriving in front of his building, he stopped, leaning against the street lamp to finish the cigarette he had only taken a few hits from. He was glad it wasn’t snowing tonight. The yellow light from the street lamp lit the couple of days old snow covering the pavement.

His fingers were numb from not being covered by gloves and not being stashed in his warm pockets. He took too many hits, keeping his phone unlocked – hoping a text message would pop up telling him Ian was home.

He didn’t want to be alone.

Losing hope, he crushed his cigarette against the street lamp, throwing the butt on the bin near the entrance of the building.

He made his way through the lobby, towards the elevator. Once he was inside, pressing the button to the seventh floor, a hand prevented the door from closing.

“Yes,” the person cheered when the doors reopened properly. Mickey turned to look at the person. He grinned from ear to ear when he recognized that red hair.

“Oh,” Ian let out, taken aback. “What are you doing here? Aren’t you working tonight?”

“Dismissed,” he only replied, eyeing Ian up and down. His coat was open, and he could see the shirt and tie he was wearing underneath. “You’re wearing a suit?”

“Oh, hm,” Ian flushed instantly. He pressed the button to the sixth floor, entering Mickey’s personal space. Mickey closed his eyes, his senses filled with Ian’s scent again. He looked up at him, seeing Ian biting down his bottom lip.

“I’m not complaining,” he told him when the doors closed behind Ian. The redhead eyed him suspiciously, but seemed to understand when Mickey took his coat off. Mickey enjoyed the view – to say the least.

It was wearing a simple grey suit with a white shirt and a black tie. Simple, but perfectly fitted.

“Oh, the suit gets you going,” Ian said lowly. Mickey turned his head to the left, seeing their reflection in the mirrors covering the walls of the elevator. Ian took another step forward, pressing himself against Mickey.

Mickey felt his own penis twitching in his jeans at the contact and Ian seemed to have felt it as well. The redhead brought a hand up to cup at his jaw, connecting their lips.

Mickey moaned against him. Another hand sneaked under his coat, settling on his small. Thanks to it, Ian pressed him even closer.

“Why the suit?” Mickey breathed against his lips, his erection obvious to his boyfriend.

“I’ll explain later,” the redhead told him, pushing him against the back of the elevator. He pressed his lips harder on Mickey’s. His whole body tried to melt against Ian’s. This was it. He wanted it.

Grabbing Ian’s neck with both hands, he licked the seam of his lips teasingly. Ian tried over and over again to sneak his tongue in his mouth, but he prevented him from doing so. It brought a frustrated chuckle out of Ian’s throat.

“God, you’re killing,” Ian groaned against him, trying to press himself even closer.

“I know,” Mickey grinned. He left a trail of kisses on his jaw, reaching his earlobe. He bit it teasingly, making Ian keen. He looked up to where the elevator was just as the 5 changed to 6.

He softly pushed Ian away, making him groan. He grabbed the coat from the floor and grabbed Ian by his tie just as the elevator’s doors open. He didn’t care for the obvious bulge in his jeans as he led his boyfriend down the dark hallway. The only lights were from the green security lamps.

Ian’s eyes were dark, pupils wide. He seemed to follow Mickey blindly down the hallway. His hands were everywhere on Mickey. The dark haired man controlled himself from undressing his boyfriend right there in the hallway. Instead, when they reached Ian’s front door, he shortened the distance between them by pulling at his tie. Ian gladly put his lips on him.

The kiss was soft this time, only lips against lips. Mickey caressed his cheek gently. When they parted, Ian seemed like in a trance, breathing in his mouth, still.

“Ian, the keys,” he told him softly.

“Right,” his boyfriend breathed. He swallowed the lump in his throat, closing his eyes sharply. He stayed there for a couple of seconds. Mickey was mesmerized by the sight he had – Ian was trying to stay composed. Mickey could feel the erection pressing against him, he could feel how Ian wanted it. “Shit,” he murmured before pecking his lips in one single kiss.

He then took a step back, looking through his pockets to find the keys. He placed one of his hand flat on Mickey’s chest while unlocking the door.

Once inside, with the door securely relocked, Mickey attacked Ian once more. This was gentler than inside the elevator. This was more want than need. He pressed his lips against Ian’s, stroking his hair backwards. The redhead laced his arms around him, both of his hands flat against his back.

“The coat,” Ian muttered against him. “Get the coat off.” His voice sounded small, breathless. Mickey did as told. He shrugged his heavy coat off his shoulders. His hands found their way back for Ian’s chest pretty quickly. He could feel the heat emanating from his body.

“I want you,” he murmured against his lips. He sneaked his hands under Ian’s suit jacket, letting it fall to the floor. “Come with me.”

Ian followed him to the bedroom, pressing himself against his back. Once they reached it, Mickey turned around to crash his lips against him. He blindly reached for the bedside lamp’s switch.

Ian made him lose balance, making him sit down on the bed. He scouted farther on the covers, and Ian seemed to understand why. With one knee on each of his side, he sat down on his lap.

Instead of connecting his mouth to his, Ian started sucking on his neck – right below his ear. Mickey unintentionally gasped at the sensation. He cupped Ian’s scalp while his other hand’s focus was to bedraggle his boyfriend by pulling at his shirt. Once the fabric wasn’t trapped in his pants anymore, Mickey flattened his hand against the small of Ian’s back. It was sweaty and burning hot – just as he liked it.

Ian breathed hot on his neck, biting teasingly from time to time before going back to sucking. He bucked his hips against Mickey’s as much as humanly possible.

“Shit,” Ian murmured, sitting back. Mickey could see how flushed he was, how swollen and wet his lips were. He closed the distance separating them to kiss these lips he couldn’t get enough of.

He felt hands tugging at his sweater. He let Ian undress him, taking off the sweater and the t-shirt underneath. Afterwards, Mickey untied his tie loosely and unbuttoned his shirt slowly. Ian’s eyes were fixed on his fingers – how they were carefully unbuttoning each and every one of them.

He saw him biting down his lip when he reached the last button. He slid the cloth off Ian’s body, feeling his skin under the tip of his fingers. Ian got rid of his tie before making them both lie down. He pressed their bare chests together.

Mickey’s hands found their way to Ian’s ass – which he loved so much. He felt Ian chuckling against him, making him grin in response.

“You really got a thing for my ass,” Ian mumbled against his skin.

“Yeah, one day I’ll eat you out,” he breathed his response. Ian bucked his hips against his harder, making him moan.

“Is that a promise?”

“Yes,” he confirmed him by grabbing his face hard, pressing his lips against his. Once Ian was as into the kiss as he was, he sneaked his hands south. He unzipped Ian’s pants and pushed them down his ass – along with his boxers. The redhead bit down his lip, moaning.

He suddenly slid off of Mickey, standing up in front of him. Mickey sat back on his elbows, watching him with dark eyes. The fabric was still covering the redhead’s groin except for the tip of his erection.

Ian, gaze never leaving him, got rid of his shoes and socks before bending over to take the pants and boxers off. Mickey could only salivate at the sight of Ian’s erection popping free.

Ian approached him, unbuckling his belt. Mickey was too mesmerized, dumbfounded almost, to do anything. He only lifted his hips when it was required. Ian undressed him entirely, leaving him buck naked on the covers.

Opening the nightstand’s drawer, he grabbed a couple of items from it.

“We don’t need these,” Mickey argued, putting the condoms back to their place. He kissed up Ian’s chest. “I’m clean,” he muttered between kisses. “And you’re clean,” he kept on up Ian’s neck. He reached his ear, biting his earlobe teasing him. “I want you to feel me,” he husked in his ear.

Ian almost purred at the feeling. He pushed Mickey down the mattress again, settling between his legs this time.

Mickey watched him pouring lube on a couple of fingers. The redhead let the tip of his index trail down his penis, down his balls ‘til it reached his entrance. Mickey groaned beneath him, being touched for the first time that way _that_ night.

Ian teased him, though. He ran his finger over his hole, lubricating it.

“Ian,” he whimpered. Ian locked eyes with him, a small smirk spreading on his face as he pushed his finger in. Mickey closed his eyes in pleasure, sighing. Nothing had been up his ass since that time, _that mistake_. Ian thrust his finger in a couple of times before adding his middle finger along with his index. He moaned as Ian crooked his fingers in him.

Ian hovering over him, his erection heavy on his hip. He resumed on mouthing at his neck. Ian really had something for his neck. His body was burning hot over him, making his wetting the sheets with his sweat. His breathing deepened as Ian kept on fingering him – mouth wild on his skin.

He squirmed beneath him. He felt himself leaking against his stomach, but that couldn’t be the end already. He wanted Ian, this was the time and place. He _needed_ him.

“More,” he breathed. He could have thought Ian hadn’t heard him, too focused on bruising his pale skin, but he felt a third finger toying its way in. He hooked his leg around Ian as he pressed the three locked fingers inside him. “Fuck, Ian,” he breathed in his ear.

He knew he was a mess underneath his boyfriend but the pleasure Ian was offering him sent shivers through his body.

“I want you in me,” he voiced without even meaning to. Ian stilled his action in his hole – the fingers still stretching him.

“I want you too,” he breathed in ear before kissing his jaw. Mickey turned his face to meet his lips. He licked them, loving the taste of it. He felt Ian fumbling between them, but he was too focused on the taste of his lips. A small whine left his lips when the fingers were retrieved from his ass, though.

Ian smeared more lube against his hole before settling himself between his legs. Mickey automatically hooked his legs around him. He felt him pressing the head of his penis against his hole – making him slightly tense.

Ian shushed him, pressing his lips against his. He sneaked his tongue in Ian’s mouth, and Ian pushed in him.

He gasped at the feeling of Ian filling him. The redhead kept on thrusting forward, filling him even more. He had to detach his mouth from Ian to breathe correctly.

“Oh God, Ian,” he let out.

“Yeah,” the redhead agreed, fully seated in.

“I forgot how big you were,” he told him honestly. He felt Ian’s balls against his ass cheeks, Ian wasn’t moving.

“I forgot how good you felt,” he murmured in his ear. Mickey chuckled at that, rocking his hips a bit. Ian took this as his cue to start moving again.

His movement were minimal at first, barely pulling out before thrusting back in. Mickey shamelessly moaned every time. He connected his mouth to Ian’s, lacing his arms around his shoulders. With his right hand, he played with Ian’s hair. It was growing longer, easier to pull it.

Ian grunted in his mouth every so often. After a short while of adjustment, Ian pulled out farther and thrust deeper within him – making him cry out. He didn’t need to put words on what he was feeling – Ian _knew_. The redhead kept on like this, this hard pace. Mickey was loving every moment of it.

He wanted to murmur in his ear these words – the ones he had thought so many times recently. He knew that wasn’t the right time nor the right place to tell him but he felt it nonetheless. Ian was making love to him, he must’ve known what he felt for him.

He slid his hands down Ian’s sweaty back. His boyfriend was a furnace, but he assumed he wasn’t any better. He hid his face in Ian’s neck, and the redhead did the same. Ian bit down the junction of his neck and shoulder, making him groan with pleasure.

“Fuck,” he breathed, his eyes crossing. Ian shifted on top of him, detaching their chests as he pounded deeper into him. At his whimper, Ian seemed to understand this was the right spot to hit into him. He made his mission to hit it over and over again.

Mickey was lost in a sea of pleasurable actions. The mouth on his skin kept on sucking, the tongue laving the bruises. The hand on his hip kept him grounded against the mattress, the thumb softly stroking his skin. The penis inside him felt so good, not only because he was getting fucked and that had been a long time. No. He was sure that the fact Ian was the one pounding into him was the main factor of him reaching his orgasm like this. Even the frictions of Ian’s thighs against him sent shivers through his spine.

Ian’s pace didn’t slow down a bit. Mickey was now panting, softly praying for Ian to be near. He was. He felt himself leaking even more and at that particularly hard jab inside him, he lost it. His whole body shook through his orgasm. He colored his chest and Ian’s with white hot semen. Ian’s thrusting were still erratic, but he didn’t mind.

He made a show of clenching around him, rocking his hips softly in sync with Ian’s.

“Fuck, Mick,” Ian panted. He crashed his mouth on his, whimpering against his lips. “I – Fuck,” he whined. His hips stuttered and Mickey felt him filling his hole with his sperm. Ian kept on thrusting, chasing his own climax.

Once he was done, he slumped on top of Mickey – as spent as his boyfriend. They were both breathing heavily until Ian kissed his cheek – chuckling.

“You’re perfect, you know that” Mickey murmured.

Ian smiled genuinely at him. He ran a finger up Mickey’s chest, collecting some of his come before sucking it.

“You taste so good,” he told him lowly.

“I know you love how I taste,” he breathed, grinning. “People will wonder if I had sex with a vampire.”

“Yeah, well. That shows you’re taken,” he retorted, fingers lingered on the darkening bruises.

“They have to chance anyways,” Mickey told him sincerely. He swore a blush crept up on his boyfriend’s face.

At last, Ian pulled out and flat out laid on his stomach next to him.

Mickey stroked his back lovingly, watching the way Ian’s waist rose and fell heavily with each breath. A pool of sweat gathered on the small of his back and before thinking twice, he made himself move to lap at it. He settled on the back of Ian’s legs, having the redhead moaning contently.

He kissed to small of his back, lapping at the sweat there. He loved Ian’s taste as well – no matter what. He then shifted his weight to his right, on his knee better settled on the covers. He went to kiss at Ian’s tattoo. He had found it dumb, two male signs laced, really, Ian? But his afterthought had been adding an ‘I’ and an ‘M’ underneath them would be pretty cool. He had found himself dumber. He liked it, in the end. He mouthed it gently, stroking Ian’ buttock with one hand. He kissed up Ian’s side then, focusing his attention on the eagle inked on Ian’s ribs. He kissed around it, feeling Ian’s muscles relaxing.

He went upward with his lips. Ian lazily lifted his arm to drop it on his back as he kissed his upper side. He licked on his upper chest to his neck. Ian barely shifted, but the soft noises he was making were enough to make him understand he liked the attention.

He pressed himself against his side, realizing he had grown hard.

“Again?” Ian moaned.

“Mhm hm,” he confirmed him. He made him lie on his back and straddled his thighs. Ian sighed when he started stroking his dick with his lubricated hand. After only a few pumps, though, the redhead was ready to go again. Mickey shifted to settle above his erection.

He sank down Ian’s penis slowly, taking in the sight of his boyfriend’s face as he did so. Ian exhaled deeply, his hands settling on his upper thighs. They weren’t really holding him, just feeling him.

Mickey set up a gentle pace – he knew they both wouldn’t last long anyways.

They didn’t talk neither that time, knowing what the other one wanted by his body language. Mickey rode him lovingly, never setting a pace as hard as the previous one.

Ian came first this time, sitting up to mingle his tongue with Mickey’s right before shooting his load inside him. They stayed in this position as they both jerked Mickey’s penis. He climaxed silently, eyes closed and lips to Ian’s.

They were both spent above the covers, slowly caressing each other. Mickey knew this was love. He had seen it on both Mandy and Jeremy. This was love he was feeling. But he couldn’t let him know like this. He didn’t know if the sentiment was reciprocal. Sure, he knew Ian cared about him and liked him very much. Loving him, though, he didn’t know if the redhead’s feelings had shifted to this with what he had done to him. Still, he had to let Ian know of something, so he settled for a simple formulation of the words. He turned his head to him, stroking his cheek for him to open his eyes.

“I’ve never felt this way before,” he whispered. He saw a flash in Ian’s eyes, maybe that was fear, but he remained confident.

“Me neither,” Ian breathed back before kissing him.

***

It wasn’t long after that they heard both of their stomachs rumbling.

“Food?” Mickey asked. Ian only moaned as a response, hiding himself under the pillow. He was adorable when he did that. “Pizza then?”

“What time is it?” He said, getting his head out of its hidden spot. “They still deliver at 10 PM?”

“Of course they do,” Mickey told him.

***

The delivery guy had smirked at him when he had opened the door. He had put his boxers and a t-shirt on, but he assumed Ian’s love-bites were still noticeable. Or maybe that was the sex hair.

“So, the suit?” he asked, legs crossed on the covers. Ian already had grease smeared on his lips.

“I lied,” he started with. Mickey frowned at him, not jumping on any conclusion. He didn’t know which ones to make anyways. The redhead swallowed his bite. “It wasn’t a reunion at the library. I went to an interview for another job.”

“Oh,” he let out. “You’re quitting the library?” He knew things were fine at his work.

“If things go well, yes,” he smiled shyly.

“And they went well, I suppose,” he provided.

“I think so, yeah.”

“What’s the job then?”

“Don’t mock me,” Ian warned him.

“Ian, you’re talking to a bartender, former janitor. Don’t worry,” he told him with a smile.

“Okay. I basically would be the head of the department of some life insurance company’s secretary. I know that doesn’t seem like much but –“

“Don’t defend your choice,” Mickey cut him. “Secretary. Nice. That means you’ll have to, what, answer the phone, classify folders, make appointments and all?”

“Basically, yeah. And if my boss trusts me enough, he can also let me do some work for him and all.”

“That’s great, Ian,” he told him genuinely.

“Thank you,” he grinned back. “Oh, now you. Why are you home on a Monday night?”

“I think I might be fired –“

“Fired? Why?”

“I don’t know yet. I’ll see next week if I’m actually fired or not,” he replied. He placed his hands on Ian’s knee, trying to reassure him – and himself as well. Things would be okay.


	17. Ready but not willing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from _I want it all_ by Depeche Mode: _Still you give me everything / And everything's not enough / I'm ready but not willing / To give myself to you / Sometimes [...]_  
>  Also, fuck, I've reached 100,000 words for this story.

“I don’t want to go,” Mickey complained once more in front of his wardrobe. His bag was open on his bed, and the only items filling it for the moment were boxers and socks. “Ian,” he exaggerated a pout, turning to look at his boyfriend. It felt weird to have Ian back to his apartment after all that time they were spending downstairs.

“I don’t want you to go neither,” the redhead admitted, eyes closed with his hands under his head.

“Should’ve said that before I agreed to go,” Mickey retorted, throwing a balled-up t-shirt to his boyfriend’s face. A glare was thrown his way, but quickly softened.

“I’m not gonna stop you from celebrating Christmas with your family, Mick,” Ian said, playing with the fabric of the t-shirt now that he was propped on his elbows.

“Mandy’s my family. That’s fucking all,” he argued. With a heavy sigh, he closed the doors and walked up to his boyfriend. He gracelessly let himself fall on top of him. Ian was ready to complain, but quickly wrapped his arms around him as they got comfortable. He almost purred as Ian played with his hair. _You’re my family_.

“You being home for over two weeks makes you clingy,” Ian murmured. “Be careful, Mick.”

“Can we not talk about the fact that I’m unemployed for Christmas?” Mickey asked lowly. He didn’t want to think about that. He didn’t want to think about having his job – the first one he had actually liked doing – ripped away from him this way. Ian slowly nodded. “Thanks,” he mumbled.

“You know, you could always take my job at the library,” Ian said thoughtfully.

“And being surrounded by silence all day long? No way. I’ve done that before, the loneliness and the silence.” He’d had Jay as well at that period of silence. He’d had his friend as he cleaned up after stupid high school students and teachers who thought they were better than everyone else. That reminded him, this afternoon he would face them all. Mandy’s in-laws. And he would see Jay. He hadn’t seen him since that time, and he didn’t know if he was actually ready to do so. He didn’t want to talk about it. He just wanted to ignore it. He was happy with Ian. He didn’t want Jay to fuck up everything again. He wouldn’t let him anyways. “What time is it?” he asked lowly.

He felt Ian squirming beneath him to get his phone out of his pocket.

“10:21 AM. At what time do you have to be at Mandy’s again?”

“She said noon, tops,” he reminded him. He didn’t want to go. He wanted to spend these few days with Ian, snuggled under too many blankets and talking shit.

“You should definitely pack then,” Ian said softly.

“Why can’t I just pretend I’m not here?” He complained in a mutter.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing,” he dismissed him, caressing his chest. The redhead didn’t seem to mind having to support his weight on top of him. “I’m gonna miss you,” he mumbled.

“Mick, you’re gonna be gone for two days. That’s nothing, don’t worry,” Ian reassured him. He did hear the small twinge in Ian’s voice, though. This wasn’t nothing.

“It is,” Mickey retorted. “How am I supposed to sleep without your furnace next to me, or your soft snores? How am I supposed to have a good day when I know I won’t be coming back to you at the end of it? How can I feel okay without feeling you?”

“Mick, you’re a sap. I hope you know that,” Ian smiled at him. He made them roll on the covers. Mickey pushed his bag to the floor to have more space. “What about I make you feel good now, hm? So good you can feel me until you come home.”

“Well,” Mickey grinned. He checked the time once more. “You’ve got an hour, we can always try,” he concluded, licking his lips.

Ian grinned as well in response before shifting forward to kiss his lips.

 

* * *

 

They were standing near Mickey’s front door. Ian wanted to beg him not to go, afraid that if his man saw his former fuck buddy, he would cave. He knew he was placing his own insecurities on Mickey, even though he had no real reason to. Mickey had been the perfect boyfriend, minus the light slip back from so many weeks before.

“I’ll let you the keys.” Mickey’s voice brought him back to reality.

“What?”

“The keys,” he repeated, making them jingle. “I’ll leave them to you. We both know that I’ll go back to your place as soon as I set a foot on the Chicago concrete,” he said with a shy smile. Ian couldn’t stop himself from kissing these lips. It was silly how much he depended on the other man, it had only been a couple of months. And, Mickey wasn’t leaving him. He would come back. _Ian, remember, he’s going to come back_. “I’m coming back, Ian,” Mickey muttered against his lips. For a split second, he had thought he had voiced that out loud. “I’ll have you on the phone all day long whether you like it or not.”

“I won’t mind.”

“What about your family then?” Ian saw it, that look Mickey was giving him every time he brought up the subject. The look of inquiry his boyfriend had, a hint of sadness behind it.

“I’ll have Debs later,” he told him, reassuring him as much as possible. It wasn’t a lie, only half of it. He had planned on calling Debbie later in the day, not to have her over.

“Sure?”

“Yeah, sure, Mick,” he sighed, a bit exasperated to have Mickey questioning him. He knew it was for his own good, that Mickey was doing that for him – but still.

“Okay, then,” his boyfriend mirrored his sigh. “Look, Ian. I know something is up. You don’t want to tell me, fine. I’m giving you time, but don’t shut me down, alright?”

“I’m not –“

“Ian,” he said sternly. “I know you better than you think and I don’t want to fight with you, especially not right now.”

“I don’t want to fight neither,” he whispered. He placed his forehead on Mickey’s shoulder, his arms wrapping around him. He heard him letting out a deep breath. He felt a hand sneaking up, anchoring itself between his shoulder blades. It felt oddly soothing.

“Look, Ian,” he muttered. “I’ll call you when I’m there and I’ll let you know how things are going, okay? I can’t let them down like this even though I’d prefer staying with you. I hope you know that.” That last sentence was even lower than the ones before. Ian wanted to hate himself for acting this way, for feeling down like this. Mickey didn’t deserve what he was doing to him.

“Sure,” he said louder than expected. He even startled himself by the sound of his voice. He looked up to the saddening blue eyes boring into his. He didn’t want him to be sad, no. He wanted him to be happy, it was Christmas time. People were supposed to be happy at that time of the year.

He slowly placed his mouth on Mickey’s once again, slipping his tongue between Mickey’s lips. He felt Mickey exhaling deeply through his nose as the tattooed hand settle on his jaw – cupping it. Mickey’s thumb was stroking lightly at his stubble.

He pressed himself flush against his boyfriend, making him take a couple of steps back until he was trapped between him and the front door.

“Ian – I can’t,” he grumbled between kisses. The redhead could hear how the words had no real meaning behind them – Mickey was only saying them because he was supposed to. Ian sneaked his hand between them, nails raking on Mickey’s clothed chest. His fingers settled on Mickey’s belt buckle, pulling at it teasingly.

“We can be quick again,” Ian breathed in his mouth.

Mickey was silent for a long minute, breathing uneven as his eyes darkened. “Shit,” he muttered before slapping Ian’s hand away to unbuckle his jeans. Ian watched him messily unbuttoning them, pushing them barely below his ass along with his boxers before turning around to face the door.

Ian tsked him, though. With a hand on his shoulder, he turned Mickey back around before sinking down on his knees. He pushed the jeans until the middle of his boyfriend’s thighs before approaching his groin.

He knew it was only reassuring himself – sex. That was what Mickey had been looking for when he had messed up, so why not giving it to him? Why not showing him how much he didn’t need anyone else apart from him?

He slowly licked his way up Mickey’s penis – only half-hard for the moment. He placed his hands on both of Mickey buttocks, squeezing them softly as he ran his tongue over the pulsing vein on the underside of his boyfriend’s dick. He dared glancing up at him, only to have Mickey biting down his own lip, eyes pressed shut. He was deeply breathing through his nose and Ian decided that yes, he would make him feel good.

Mickey’s penis was filling, and Ian took the head in his mouth. He sucked hard at it, tasting the precome leaking from the slit. Opening his mouth wider, he fitted as much of the shaft as possible in it. He loved the small sounds Mickey was making. He loved knowing he was the one extracting these sounds from Mickey’s throat.

He swirled his tongue around Mickey’s curved length, humming his own pleasure around it.

“Christ, Ian,” Mickey muttered, his fingers raking through his hair. Ian had never liked having longer hair – not that it was very long. It was just enough for Mickey to pull at it during sex or to run his fingers through the barely present curls. He loved when Mickey was doing this, just being soft.

He assumed he was a mess of spit and precome, but he didn’t care. No, not when Mickey was making those sounds, slightly rocking his hips. Ian bobbed his head, relaxing his throat even more every time – taking him further and further.

Mickey groaned and moaned above him, his hips bucking forward – probably without even meaning to. Ian didn’t mind – not the least.

He noticed the ringing of the phone only when Mickey caressed his cheek, muttering, “Shit, I have to. That’s Mandy, shit, Ian.”

Ian raised a single eyebrow at him, not detaching his mouth from him

“Hello?” he said, way to collected for someone having their dick inside their boyfriend’s mouth. Ian smirked around his shaft, remembering that time he had been the one on the other side of the line. Strangely enough, he didn’t mind remembering that. “Yeah, I know, Mands. Gimme ten minutes.” Ian glanced up at him once more, and the dark eyes looked down at him. “Well, make it five,” he corrected himself – eyes shutting in pleasure. “Yes, _I’m fucking coming_ , Jesus,” he added, exasperated before hanging up. Ian sucked harder, deeper. “That was for you as well,” Mickey breathed. “Oh fuck,” he moaned – tightening his grip in Ian’s hair.

It surely didn’t take long for him to orgasm in Ian’s mouth. The redhead swallowed it all, milking him by hollowing his cheeks. He loved how Mickey tasted. At last, he let go of Mickey, sitting up on his ankles.

He messily cleaned his mouth with the back of his hand, staring at his boyfriend. Mickey was propped against the door, still panting. A light smile appeared on Ian’s lips. He stood back again, redressing his boyfriend.

As he was buckling his jeans, Mickey connected their lips.

“I need to go,” he said, tone almost apologetic.

“I know,” Ian nodded. He fixed his boyfriend’s shirt and grabbed his bag. Mickey shrugged his coat on, and took the bag from his boyfriend’s hand. “Have fun.”

“Not without you,” he said with a smirk – but Ian could sense he was actually meaning what he said.

With one last kiss goodbye, he let him go.

***

[3:10 PM] Ian Gallagher: Hey, can I call?

Ian had gone back down to his own apartment, having grabbed Mickey’s pillow with him. He was now sprawled on the couch, the said pillow resting against his chest – pretending it was Mickey instead. He felt pathetic to say the least.

It was over twenty minutes later that his phone buzzed with an incoming call.

“Hey,” he said when the line connected.

“Hey yourself,” Debbie cheered. “I thought I wouldn’t have any news from you, to be totally honest with you. You know, like last year.”

“You had news last year,” Ian instantly argued, though he didn’t remember the previous year in its whole – he had been way to out of it on Christmas.

“Anyways,” Debbie sighed. “I don’t want to argue with my favorite brother when I finally get the chance to talk to him.”

“Favorite brother? You know I don’t have gifts for you, right?”

“I don’t want gifts, Ian. You know what I want.” And here it was again.

“Debs,” he let out. “I won’t come –“

“Why not? It’ll be just us, maybe it will be good for you to come over.”

“It’s not my call to come over. _They_ have to come around. I know that’s childish of me and that I miss you guys, but I don’t want to spend Christmas being interrogated on my medication and love life, being compared to Monica all over again. I don’t want that, and you know it.”

“I know, Ian. I know that, you don’t have to tell me. But maybe if they saw you the way you are now, they’ll understand. I mean, it’ll be just Carl, Liam, Fiona and me. Maybe Kev and V, but that’s all.”

“No Lip?”

“No, the shithead is staying in New York with his boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend?” Ian repeated, eyes wide.

“Shit,” he heard her muttering. “Yeah, boyfriend, I guess.”

“He’s the most homophobic shithead I know.”

“Maybe he was in the closet.”

“No, Debs you didn’t know him like I did,” he retorted. “Boyfriend?”

“Yeah, he and Sully have been together for like six or seven months I think? Honestly, he’s less of an asshole now that he’s dating this guy.”

“So what? That makes it okay for being a homophobic asshole before?” he spat. That had to be a joke. It was like the homophobic jock in teenager movies, suddenly turning out to be gay and everything was better after. That _had_ to be a joke. Hell, Lip had had a chick to suck him off when he had learned about his sexual orientation – always asking him how the hell one could like it up the ass and all. _Jesus_.

“Jesus, Ian. I’m on _your_ side. Stop that shit. Yes, your brother is dating a guy and for once he isn’t treating the person he’s with like shit. I know how he is, and I know you two have had issues for as far as I can remember. Ian, this isn’t my fault. You can give him shit as much as you want, I don’t care. But don’t pin this on me or use this as an excuse to draw yourself even farther from us than you already are. You have your issues with him, right, okay. I can deal with that. But you can’t have Carl hating you like this. You can’t have seeing me only a couple of times a month like that, acting as if it’s normal for us to dance around some subjects we both want to talk about. You can’t have Fiona so distant – she’s fucking up without you and Lip around. You can’t let Liam missing you like that, he loves you, Ian. He won’t talk about it but he misses you, I see that. Hell, even Carl misses you. You were his role model for Christ’s sake. I know he misses Lip, but not as much as you.”

Ian took it all in. Debbie had never said all those things to him, and he had to admit that she was a bit right. “Feel better now?” he asked her.

“Actually yes, thanks for asking.”

“What else is eating you then?” he kept on, trying to change the subject.

“That. All of what I’ve said is eating me, Ian. I hate being in the middle like this, it’s lasted for too long. I don’t want you to come back around to fix the mess happening here. I just want to have my brother back for real.”

“I’ll try,” he murmured.

“You’ll try?” she cheered.

“Not – Not right now, Debs, but I’ll try okay?”

“Sure,” she sighed. “They really do miss you, Ian. Maybe you should try calling them or something.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” he gave in. He missed his little brothers, yes.

“So, what are you plans then?

“Plans?”

“Yeah, well you know, it’s like Christmas Eve tomorrow and you know, a family holiday and all.”

“Oh, right,” he mumbled.

“Where’s Mickey?”

“With his family.”

“And you’re not there with him?”

“It’s not like that. It’s more like his sister’s family – _her_ in-laws,” he explained.

“Oh,” she let out. “So what are your plans then?” she inquired for once more.

“Well, I allow myself to change my routine a bit.”

“Meaning?”

“Couch, movies, junk food. That, until Mickey comes home.”

“Sounds like a plan, yeah,” she laughed lightly. “You sure you don’t want to come by?”

“I’m not ready for that, Debs,” he admitted.

“Okay,” she sighed. “Well, I need to get back to work. My boss is glaring at me right now.”

“Oh, yeah, sure. Well, have fun tomorrow and all.”

“Thanks, you too I guess.”

“Thanks, bye Debs.”

“Bye.”

***

[5:21 PM] Mickey Milkovich: First thing: we’re so deep in the middle of nowhere that I don’t even have much signal? I tried calling but that doesn’t work, I just hope this text will get sent. Anyways. Never been here before and they’re having some rooms renovated, meaning no guest room. Don’t worry, the couch will be my friend. I hate the countryside, never bring me here for a surprise or some shit. Miss you.

Ian grinned at his phone when he read the text, bundled up in a blanket and a shitty romantic comedy on TV. He was giving his brain a break from books.

[5:40 PM] Ian Gallagher: No countryside for Mickey Milkovich, okay, got it! My couch and I miss you, too.

[6:01 PM] Mickey Milkovich: I’ll try getting hold of the phone tomorrow. I’m beat for now man. Remind me to never again go on a car ride with both my sister and her boyfriend. I’ll probably fall asleep on you so yeah sorry.

[6:05 PM] Ian Gallagher: Don’t worry about me. Ryan Gosling is keeping me company. Have fun there.

***

Ian had troubles falling asleep, despite Mickey’s scent filling his nose as he hugged the pillow against his chest.

The next day, Ian felt like shit – and looked like it. He took his medication before going back to bed for few hours. He woke up again with texts from friends wishing him a happy Christmas Eve. He didn’t reply, not feeling like it.

He only sent a text to Debbie, asking for their brother’s phone number. He didn’t have to precise which one.

It took him a couple of hours to actually send the text he had written and erased too many times. It was silly.

[2:33 PM] Ian Gallagher: Happy Christmas Eve, Carl. I miss you and the little guy so much. I’ll hopefully see you soon. – Ian.

***

He managed to talk over the phone with Mickey that evening. The other man carefully not mentioned Jay once, and he was actually glad he was doing so. He didn’t need images of them having fun there – even though he knew they were friends. Mickey talked way too much, filling the void he was leaving on his end. He talked about how freezing cold it was there, how the parents weren’t that great but it was fun seeing Mandy bickering politely with them and all.

They stayed on the phone until Mickey was called for dinner and they reluctantly parted.

Tearing himself over the thoughts eating him, he finally went to look through his wardrobe. Opening the doors, he spotted the bright red paper wrapping Mickey’s gift – they had agreed on not giving each other presents but Ian had caved seeing it, knowing it was actually a gift for the both of them. He bypassed the box to reach for another one behind it.

He knelt on the floor with the shoebox on his lap. He only looked at it for few minutes before opening it. It always hurt him, seeing these memories of his former self – the happy teenager pursuing his goal in the army. He felt the inscriptions on his dog tag with a brush of his thumb, letting them fall back in the box.

He stayed there for way too long for his sanity, inspecting every items of his former self. At the bottom of the box was a picture from a day he didn’t particularly wanted to remember. He found himself brushing his finger over the stilled form of his mother on this family picture. They looked all so happy on that picture. Ian with his wild orange curls sitting on his mother’s lap. Fiona wasn’t faking a smile, but Ian could see how she was looking at their parents for that Christmas picture from so many years ago.

“Merry Christmas, Mom,” he muttered, tears filling his eyes yet again.

***

He was awaken by the buzzing of his phone. It read 1:33 AM but he could also see this was the number Mickey had called him with earlier.

“Hello?” he croaked.

“Shit, am I waking you up?” he heard his boyfriend’s voice – slightly drunk.

“It’s okay,” he replied instead.

“Okay.” They was a full minute of silence of them only listening to the other one breathing. “Well, hm,” he cleared his throat. “There was a pretty heated conversation here earlier.”

“Heated? As in?”

“Mandy called Jeremy’s mom a bitch. And she heard.”

“I thought she would be more discreet than that.”

“Yeah, well. Mrs. Asher is constantly talking about marriage to Jeremy and kids to Mandy so she lost it a bit. Plus she never hides the fact that she dislikes my sister.”

“Your sister doesn’t want kids?”

“She’s a kid herself, let her live a life before she ties herself by having children.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Are you okay, man?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about me.”

“Well, I called to let you know that things are a bit fucked up here, I think we’re gonna leave earlier tomorrow morning.”

“Oh, hm, sure.”

“So, did you have plans or can I come over?”

“You know you can come over. Plus I have the keys to your place, where would you go?”

“I don’t know. Hm, look, I think I gotta go. I’ll see you later, right?”

“Yeah, later.”

 _Love you_. It would have felt so natural to let these words out.

***

Ian didn’t manage to fall back asleep after this phone call. He wanted to snuggle against his boyfriend, he wanted to be the one his boyfriend was drunk with. He only wanted to spend the holiday with him and stop being jealous over all this.

He had never felt this way with someone. He had thought he’d been falling in love so many times as a teenager. This had never been like this, ever. It wasn’t only that he liked Mickey more than everyone, he wanted to share everything with him. He wanted to celebrate his new job with him, he wanted to come home to him every night. He wanted to know more about his past, being with him for his present and planned his future with him.

He _was_ falling in love.

He sighed heavily and turned to look at what time it was. 2:52 AM.

He tossed and turned in bed for another hour before giving up on sleep. He kicked the covers off and stood up. Looking around, he decided the only thing that would busy him for real was cleaning. He started off with his bathroom – scrubbing the tub until he couldn’t feel his fingers anymore. The kitchen was next, followed by the living room then his bedroom.

He didn’t remember the last time he had spent so much time cleaning. By 8 in the morning, he was sitting in the middle of his apartment, a thin layer of sweat covering his body. He looked around and was glad he didn’t have any Christmas decorations in his apartment. He would’ve been a pain in the ass to clean everything up with a Christmas tree or garlands in the way.

After a good half hour, he got up at last. He fixed himself some breakfast, lazily chewing the cereals as he watched the snow falling outside of his apartment.

He waited by his phone as well, not knowing whether he was waiting for an answer from his brother or just a text from if boyfriend.

***

Suddenly, it hit him. He had no one. Lying on his couch with pizza leftovers next to him, he realized he had no one. Everyone around him had other people to be with, except for him. He didn’t particularly like the idea of Christmas or any kind of holiday but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to spend it with people he cared about.

He cared about Debbie, but she was with their family. He cared about Shawn, but he was with his own family as well. Mickey was with his sister. And that was pretty all.

He didn’t want to pity himself, but in moments like these he couldn’t not to. He rose from the couch, walking to his kitchen. That was the only room he went back and forth to since Mickey had left. Kitchen – Bedroom. Kitchen – Couch. Kitchen – Shower. Kitchen, staying.

He looked into the cupboards and chugged open the first bottle of alcohol he found – drinking a couple of gulps right away. His throat was burning, but he didn’t mind.

 

* * *

 

Mickey lightly knocked on the door, and didn’t wait for an answer before entering. His hangover was hurting his head, but he’d live. He silently made his way to the living room, quietly looking for his boyfriend. He found him. Ian was sitting on the kitchen floor, leaning against the counter and asleep. Yet again, he was clutching at a bottle of what appeared to be tequila.

Leaving had been a bad idea. He could reckon that now. He had assumed Ian would live without him – he had done it before Mickey appeared in his life, why would it stop? Silently cursing at himself, he sat down on the floor in front of Ian. The redhead didn’t stir.

He watched him for a minute, looking at the dark bags under his eyes. His pearly white skin was even paler than usual. He couldn’t do that. He couldn’t look at Ian destroying himself little by little like this. Instead, he grabbed the bottle from Ian’s hand. The action didn’t even wake him. He recapped it and put it away in its cupboard. He suppressed a smile at the thought that he knew exactly where everything was in Ian’s apartment.

As silent as ever, he padded to the bathroom and filled the tub with burning hot water. He then went to the bedroom to take off his coat and drop his bag.

Coming back to the kitchen, he knelt in front of Ian. Softly stroking his thigh, he said, “Ian, wake up, man.”

It took a minute or so for the green eyes to flutter open. When they did, Mickey leant in and kissed Ian’s lips chastely.

“When did you get back?” the redhead croaked. “Shit, what time is it?” he asked, probably noticing it was getting dark outside.

“It’s barely after 4 PM,” Mickey replied. “Come with me,” he kept on. He stood up and offered his hand for Ian to take. The redhead frowned at the sight of it, but followed him anyways.

Mickey led him to the bathroom, and when his redhead noticed the filled tub he turned towards him, frown still in place. “What is that for?”

Mickey let out a dry laugh before starting to tug at his clothes. “That’s for you, idiot,” he muttered without any venom. Ian let himself be undressed. Once the redhead was standing stark naked in front of him, he took off his own clothes as well.

He could feel Ian’s gaze on him, boring into his body.

“Go inside,” he told him with a wave of his hand. Ian’s eyes stayed on him for a couple of more seconds before he looked away. Mickey was taking off his second sock when he saw Ian comfortably settling against the end of the tub. “Huhu, no way,” he told him. He tapped at his shoulder to make him move. “I’m the one behind.”

He then slipped between his boyfriend and the end of the tub, hugging him from behind. It was soothing to have his arms wrapped around him and knowing he was the reason why Ian was relaxing at that particular moment. Ian shifted a bit and placed his head on his shoulder – his damp forehead softly pressed against his neck.

“So, I assume you didn’t have a particularly good Christmas,” Mickey started off, barely over a whisper. Ian didn’t answer, though. He only pushed himself even more against Mickey. Mickey brought a hand up to gently play with the ginger curls that had started to form due to the humidity in the room. “You can trust me, Ian,” he muttered, looking down at him. “You know you can tell me everything, so just do. What is happening?”

Ian stayed silent yet again, making Mickey sighed heavily. He didn’t like the idea of his boyfriend, drinking himself away like that.

“Ian,” he said sternly. “Fucking talk to me. Stop keeping me in the dark like this. Things were fine between us, did I do something?”

“No,” he whispered back at last.

“Then what is it? I don’t think that’s your medication or anything like that, so tell me.” He could feel Ian’s heartbeat increasing – his heart pounding against him. “Is that about your family?” he asked at last. When Ian looked down even more, he understood he had hit the right spot. “Tell me then.”

Ian shifted to lie properly, his back against Mickey’s chest. Mickey didn’t want to let go of him so he placed his arms around his chest loosely.

“Okay, we’re gonna do something here, Ian. If that’s because of your family, I guess that’s not that easy. Fair trade, right? I tell you what happened at the Ashers and then you tell me what happened when I wasn’t there; or even more if you feel like it. Okay?”

“Okay,” he said, relieving Mickey. He gently grabbed Mickey’s hands, squeezing them.

“Alright, so,” Mickey started. It was the only way. “Like I told you, the car ride with Mandy and Jeremy was a pain in the ass. I guess I’m used to be either on my own or with you now.” He saw Ian’s lips twitching and forming a small smile, comforting him. “The parents and _he_ were already there. They were all nice at first, but you know, they’re not really my family; they’re Mandy’s so I felt a bit out of place. Last night when I called you, I was a bit drunk, but I think I needed the alcohol since you weren’t there to busy my mind. I was sprawled on the couch, well, my bed, hearing my sister and her boyfriend arguing in their room upstairs while the bitch and her husband were yelling at each other in the kitchen. Imagine how I just wanted to fuck off. _He_ came and we shared a bottle. I know you don’t want to hear from him but yeah, we got drunk together. He couldn’t stop talking about his boyfriend, how he thinks he’s falling in love with him. It was weird to be with him, I’m not gonna lie to you. I just, couldn’t stop thinking about you so when Jeremy said we would probably leave earlier, the first thing I thought was calling you to let you know. So yeah, I did. I missed you.”

“I trust you, you know,” Ian only replied. He squeezing his hand once more. “I didn’t doubt you or anything.”

“It felt like it,” Mickey admitted out loud.

“I think that’s more jealousy than anything else,” Ian let out.

“Jealousy?” Mickey repeated, tilting his head. “There’s nothing to be jealous of, Ian.” He turned Ian’s head towards him to taste his lips softly. “There’s nothing to be jealous of,” he repeated against his mouth. _I think I’m in love with you_.

“If you say so,” he replied, bowing his head.

“Stop with the pity party,” Mickey told him softly. “Tell me what you did then. Hopefully it won’t be two full days of you and tequila bottles, right?” He couldn’t hide the worry from his voice.

“No, don’t worry. And I was just tired, I guess I must have fallen asleep.”

“Tell me more,” he prompted. “Where’s your family?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “I guess my sisters and two of my brothers are still at the house, celebrating Christmas together.”

“And there’s a reason why you’re not with them?” He wanted to point out that he didn’t even know Ian’s siblings, apart from Debbie. He didn’t know how many he had or if he was the eldest, the youngest, middle one?

“I don’t talk to them except for Debs. Well, they don’t talk to me.”

“What happened?”

“Me happened,” he said drily.

“You gotta give me more than that, Ian,” he said gently.

“I was in the army, right?”

“Right.”

“I enlisted as soon as I was eighteen. They thought I was betraying them by leaving. They got over it after a short while, though. I spent just a little over four years there, until I was discharged for medical reasons.”

“Your disorder?”

“Yeah, I was diagnosed there. I was bouncing off the walls and nearly got two other soldiers killed with my bullshit. This scared the shit out of me and next thing I know, I’ve spent two whole days in bed. So, I was sent back to Chicago, to my family. They knew why I was brought back home and were always treating me as if I was broken. I’m not broken. They kept on and on as if I was about to slit my wrists there and then.” His voice was hard, but it felt like he was breathless – as if telling this story was taking all the energy from his body. “They kept on pushing, comparing me to our mother. They acted as if I was a child, always behind my back for absolutely everything. I was tired of it, so I left. Again. They resent me for leaving like this and I resent them for acting this way towards me. I’m the same fucking person, I just grew up but I guess they can’t see that.”

Mickey hugged him tighter, not wanting to let him go. “So what, you don’t talk to each other anymore?”

“Only to Debs.”

“What about the others? You said sisters and brothers. I didn’t know you had that much siblings.”

“Well, Fiona doesn’t really want to hear from me. She’s the eldest and acted as a mother to us so I think she assumes this was a full blow against her and nothing else. She always makes things about her; even when it’s not.”

“Okay, so Fiona, no. Then?”

“Then, there’s Lip. He’s a year older than I am. He’s just – he’s an ass, you know? He was my best friend growing up but things changed. I mean, he was always treating me with precaution and trying to convince me that no, I wasn’t gay.”

“He’s homophobic?”

“Well, according to Debbie is currently dating a guy so I don’t really know anymore.”

“Pretty ironic.”

“Yeah, you tell me,” Ian genuinely chuckled. It felt like melody to Mickey’s ears.

“Then?” He kept on, rocking Ian’s body softly.

“Then, there’s me.”

“Okay, after.”

“Debs. She wants me back home.”

“Do you want to?”

“I don’t know anymore.”

“It’s okay,” he said, patting his skin. “So, brothers?”

“Right. There’s Carl. I think he hates me for leaving. He hasn’t talked to me since then and doesn’t even answer a freaking text. He doesn’t deserve this.”

“But who does?”

“I don’t know. I’m trying to make things good right now.”

“That’s probably a good idea,” Mickey agreed. He knew this wasn’t his call to make – whether Ian should go back to his family or not. Still, he wanted to help his boyfriend and show him that he was on his side – no matter what. “So, you’re the five of you?”

“No, there’s Liam as well. But he was too young when I left.”

“How old is he now?”

“Twelve.”

“Yeah, he can’t properly form an opinion without you being there and comparing stories.”

“Exactly.”

“So, you spent Christmas alone in here?” He asked lowly.

“I had Debs over the phone after you left.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I do,” he sighed. “Look, I spent my time eating junk food, watching crappy movies and snuggled around a pillow smelling like you. Happy?”

He could sense the change of mood in Ian. His body was totally relaxed against his – as if telling him all that was a weight lifted off his shoulders. He honestly hoped Ian felt better now. “No, I’m not happy. I didn’t have a pillow smelling like you to snuggle,” he told him seriously. He hadn’t minded sleeping on the couch – it was pretty comfortable. He had only missed Ian’s smell, the small noises he made in his sleep, his long burning hot limbs wrapping around him in the middle of the night.

“Oh really? I can arrange that,” he said mischievously. He then turned around, facing Mickey in an awkward position in the middle of the bathtub – his legs bent in an uncomfortable looking way. He bent backward to wet his hair and face before sliding ‘til he reached the other end of the tub.

“You’re gonna have the faucet in your back,” Mickey pointing out.

“I don’t care,” Ian told him honestly. “Come here.”

Mickey did as told, kissing Ian’s lips before settling against his chest. It felt good to be surrounded by Ian’s arms, to be held and pressed against him. He let out a sigh of content making his boyfriend laugh.

“Better now?” Ian also lowly in his ear.

“So much better,” he agreed, closing his eyes. “You see how good it feels to talk, to let someone know what’s happening in this head of yours.”

“I know, but that’s tough, alright? That’s not easy to admit all that, Mick.”

“I know. Believe me, I know,” he soothed him.

***

He was startled awake by the sensation of drool escaping his mouth. He shifted and suddenly realized they still were in the bathtub. Ian had his head tilted back against the tiles, mouth agape and lightly snoring. Mickey loved seeing him like that.

The water was nearly cold now and it was actually cooling his body instead of doing the contrary. He brought his hand up to Ian’s neck, softly massaging him. The position in which his boyfriend was in might hurt. The redhead let out a small moan of content at the touch before opening his eyes.

“Shit, I fell asleep again?” he asked.

“Don’t worry, I did too,” he replied, hand still on the back of his neck. He brought him closed to him, never wanting to forget how he tasted like. Ian exhaled deeply through his nose as their tongue touched. “Still tired?”

“A bit,” Ian admitted as they stood up. “Didn’t get much sleep after your phone call.”

Mickey handed him a towel, then grabbed one for himself. He barely let Ian dry himself before grabbing his hand and leading him to the bedroom.

“Go lay down,” he told him. In the meantime, Mickey left the room, shutting off the remaining turned on lights and locking the front door. He checked his phone. Nothing. Ian’s. Nothing neither.

Going back to Ian, he noticed the redhead was comfortably settled under the covers.

“No, no, no,” he told him.

“What did I do again?” Ian sighed, but smiled nonetheless.

“This,” he said, taking a hold of the covers. “Go away,” he kept on, throwing the covers to the ground. “And you move on your front.” He pushed him by the shoulder.

“What are you gonna do to me?” Ian asked, voice muffled against the pillow. He hummed contently, while Mickey hadn’t even done a thing.

“You’ll see. And what’s up with the moans?”

“Pillow. Yours,” he only explained.

“You know you got me right there, Ian,” he chuckled.

“I know, then do something.”

“Alright, tough guy,” he concluded. He hopped on Ian’s thighs, straddling them. At that moment, he realized they were both naked and remembered how good it felt when nothing separated them. He leaned in and placed his hands softly on Ian’s freckled shoulders. Ian’s back was still a tad wet, his hands running smoothly over the skin. He felt Ian’s breathing deepening as he massaged his shoulders – hands running on his sides. “Feels good?”

“So good,” Ian moaned in the pillow.

“I’m not hurting you or something?” he asked, self-conscious. He had never massaged someone before, never wanted to, even. He had never wanted to pleasure someone like that. Yes, it felt nice being the reason why someone orgasmed – pushing your own pleasure to the side. It felt even better to pleasure someone without anything sexual.

“No, you’re not,” Ian retorted. “I love these hands.” Mickey smiled shyly at the comment before bending forward.

With his lips to his ears, he murmured, “And you don’t like the body attached to them?”

Ian turned his head a bit, Mickey’s lips brushing against his cheek. “Oh, I do. Don’t you worry for that.” Ian turned his whole body, almost dislodging Mickey from his lap. “Come here,” he murmured, brushing his lips against Mickey’s. “I’m happy you’re here,” he muttered in his mouth.

Mickey held himself upright with his hands framing Ian’s face. “I’m happy I’m here,” he agreed. Despite the mess happening with Ian, he felt genuinely happy to be with him, to get to know him. Ian was so much more than what he let people think. Ian was so much more than he had thought at first. “Ian, you know you make me happy, right?”

He saw the blush creeping up Ian’s cheek, quickly coloring his whole face.

“You know what?” he continued. “You’re my Christmas gift. Having you is my present.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah, like a giant teddy bear. All to myself,” he confirmed, pecking his cheek gently.

“You know, I actually have a present for you,” Ian told him.

“You do?” he said, taken aback. “I thought we had agreed on no present. At least not this year.” They had. There hadn’t been any clause to it, but when Mickey had brought up the subject he knew that would be the only year with no Christmas present between them. He wanted to see his boyfriend with a childish smile on his while tearing off wrappers like a five year old. He hadn’t mentioned that to Ian.

“We did, sorry. It’s just, I saw that and it was like there was a giant flickering ‘that’s for Mickey’ sign above it.”

Mickey laughed against him, a silly smile on his face. “So that makes me an ass, I don’t have any gift for you.”

“You being here for me is enough.”

“So I’ll be the best boyfriend possible for the next few days –“

“You already are.”

“Shut up, I’m not. Lie back down on your front.”

“You’re gonna need something if you keep on massaging me.”

“Who said I’ll keep on massaging you?” Mickey retorted, smirking. He shifted on top of his boyfriend, placing both hands on his ass cheeks.

“Oh, I see where that’s heading,” Ian’s lips formed a grin.

“You do?”

“Mhm hm. I don’t think I need anything but you then,” he concluded, relaxing entirely against the soft sheets.

Mickey placed a kiss on his neck, licking his way down his spine. He ran the tip of his fingers down Ian’s sides, feeling him shiver underneath. “I love these two,” he muttered, biting teasingly at one of Ian’s buttocks.

“I know you do,” Ian chuckled, a bit breathless. Mickey parted his cheeks, licking the way down his crack.

“You don’t do that often, hm,” he breathed. Ian’s head shaking with a ‘no’ made the whole bed rock softly, making Mickey look up at him. “Don’t like it?”

“Usually not,” Ian admitted lowly.

“You don’t mind it, do you?” he kept on breathing hotly against his ass.

“Oh God, no,” Ian let out. Grinning, Mickey left an open mouthed kiss to his hole. Ian shuddered and gasped. “Shit.”

“Yeah, you’re gonna like it,” he said almost to himself.

He kissed his hole once more, hands still holding the cheeks parted. He darted his tongue out, flattening it against him. “Holy shit.”

Mickey hummed against his ring muscle, licking it until he felt him relaxing down there. His tongue pushed its way in, loving the sounds Ian made below him. The redhead rose his hips slightly from the mattress, giving him a better access.

He felt the ring tightening around his tongue, doing everything he could to relax him. He kissed his hole softly before saying, “Knees.” He tapped at Ian’s thigh for him to settle on his knees.

Once propped up – and with a better access – he caressed his thighs before diving back in. Ian moaned shamelessly when he pushed his tongue against his puckered hole. He sucked at it, making his boyfriend breathless.

He kept on this way until Ian was fully relaxed. He sneaked his finger in Ian’s hole along with his tongue. Ian was tight, so tight. It made him hard just thinking about how Ian wasn’t used to do this but trusted him blindly to offer himself this way.

“Christ, you – Mick,” Ian moaned. Mickey felt fingers lacing in his hair, keeping him anchored there. “Like that.”

He lost track of time, feeling spit on his chin. He didn’t mind. Ian was shaking with pleasure beneath him, panting. He reached between Ian’s legs blindly – giving him some relief by jerking his cock off.

Breathless, he parted from his boyfriend’s ass. He pushed another finger in to compensate the withdrawal of this tongue. Kneeling behind him, he could see the mess his boyfriend was. His back was shining from a thin layer of sweat, reddening from pleasure. His breathing was heavy – his whole body following the movement of his chest, rising and falling.

He crooked his fingers inside Ian, squeezing the head of his penis with his other hand.

“Oh fuck,” Ian gasped. “Do that – that again,” he groaned. “You’re so good, Mick. So good.”

Mickey smeared the precome on Ian’s shaft, lubricating it. He pumped Ian until he felt him shuddering beneath him.

With a broken moan, Ian came in his hand. Mickey milked him, stilling his fingers inside him. Spent and still untouched, Mickey sat back on his heels, come in the palm of his hand. Ian lied down on his back, breathing heavily. With a crooked smile, Mickey hovered over him then. He reached towards the nightstand for a tissue. He cleaned his hand and then the drops that had landed on his boyfriend’s chest.

Ian had a lazy smile as he hooked his arms around his neck. Mickey kissed him slowly, tongue playing with Ian’s for a minute.

“You’re beautiful,” Mickey whispered. “You’re so beautiful, Ian. And you’re perfect. Never forget that,” he concluded, sealing their mouths. _I love_ _you_.

 

* * *

 

Ian woke up towards 6 AM, rested for once. A warmth was enveloping him from behind. He didn’t want to leave but reluctantly did. He quickly went to take his medication, taking a bite from a slice of pizza on his way back to the bedroom. He went back to bed, settling himself back to his position. Mickey wrapped his arms tighter around him with a groan of contentment.

The next time he woke up, he was alone in bed. He patted the mattress towards where Mickey should be but it was empty – still slightly warm. With a sigh, he sat up. He ran a hand on his face, trying to chase the sleep away. It was barely 8 AM according to the alarm clock on the nightstand.

With another heavy breath, he got up. He went to look for his boyfriend, but couldn’t find him anywhere. Panic rising inside of him, he went for his phone but nothing. No text, no phone call. Shit.

At a last attempt, he went to the bathroom again. There, tapped on the mirror was a note. He almost sighed of relief, but held it still – before reading it.

 _Take your meds and go back to bed,_  
_I went for some quick groceries._  
_I’ll wake you up when I’ll be back._  
_– M_

He let out his sigh at last. He stayed there in the middle of his bathroom for a long minute before his bare feet soaked all the cold from the floor and made him shiver. He quickly went back to bed, rolling under the covers and hugging Mickey’s pillow.

***

He woke up with something wet on his ear. Sleeping drifting away from here, he could hear light chuckles filling the room.

“Don’t do that,” he moaned, hiding his face under the pillow. Mickey’s laughter was louder this time, genuinely loud. He found himself grinning under the fabric.

“Come on, big guy. It’s nearly eleven, you’re not gonna spend the day in bed, are you?”

“I can find a couple of things we can do while staying in bed,” he retorted, taking the pillow off his face. Mickey was kneeling on the bed next to him, a smile still bright on his lips.

“I know that, too,” he replied. “But, I actually got plans for you, _us_ , today.”

“Does that involve me getting up?”

“It does. But it only involves your apartment. And there’s food in it as well,” he said with a grin. Talking about food made his stomach growl in interest and he could smell a delicious scent filling the room.

“You cooked?”

“Yes,” he replied proudly. “And surprise, that’s not eggs.”

“Damn, that’s my lucky day,” Ian said, sitting up.

“It is, yeah,” Mickey muttered, bending over to peck his lips softly. “Come with me, that’s gonna get cold.”

He stood up and carefully put some clothes on – socks as well this time. Leaving the bedroom, he froze at the entrance of his living room. Mickey next to him had a nervous look on his face – biting down his bottom lip anxiously.

“I know that’s technically not Christmas anymore, but Merry Christmas,” Mickey said, waking him from his trance.

Near his TV stood a small Christmas tree, lightly decorated. There were some garlands scattered all around the room as well. The snow gathered against his windows added a cozy touch to the picture. Mickey led him towards his dinner table – one they barely even used. There were two plates filled with waffles. Ian’s had a peeled clementine in it as well – a mug of coffee as drink. Mickey laced his arms around him from behind, kissing below his ear.

“You like?”

“If I like? Damn, Mick. No one’s ever done something like that for me,” he answered, still in awe.

“Ian, that’s noth-“

“That’s not nothing, Mick,” he cut him off. Turning within his embrace, he propped his arms on Mickey’s shoulders. “Merry Christmas to you too.”

***

“Right, I said I had a gift for you, right?” He reminded himself as he leaned back on his chair. He’d been a long time he hadn’t eaten something homemade and so delicious. Mickey honestly should cook more often, even if that meant making a mess of his kitchen.

“You did,” Mickey grinned with lips shining with syrup.

“Be right back.” He rushed to his bedroom to retrieve the wrapped present. He didn’t think twice before kicking the other shoebox on the far end of his wardrobe. Coming back to the living room, he warned Mickey. “Remember, it’s not much okay?”

“Yeah, don’t worry. You shouldn’t even have bought it.”

“Well, I did. Open it.”

Mickey had a silly grin on his face as he tore the bright red wrapper off. Though, his face held a frown once the box was bare from the paper. “What’s this?”

“Read it.”

“Yeah, they’re headphones,” he said, his frown still on. “They’re big,” he added afterwards.

“Don’t make that face, Mick. Look,” he grabbed the box from Mickey’s lap and his boyfriend didn’t lose the opportunity to bring him to sit on his knees. Ian faked an annoyed sigh as he settled on his lap before turning the box towards Mickey. “There’s headphones for the TV. Remember all these times I complained about you watching TV while I wanted to read? That’s the perfection solution. You can stay snuggled against me watching whatever show you want and I still can read.”

“So that’s a gift for you as well then.”

“It absolutely is,” Ian grinned, mirroring the expression back on his boyfriend’s features.

“Can we try it out?”

“Not today.”

“Why?”

“I wanna stay with you today,” Ian told him. “You have no other choice to cuddle me on the couch in front of shitty Christmas movie. And some making out sessions too. Lots of them.”

“I don’t mind at all,” Mickey said softly, caressing his cheek.

God, he was in love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Small note (just in case): Sully **is not** a Milkovich in this fic. We don't exactly know if he is in canon (to me he is though) but for the sake of this story, Sully is **absolutely not** related to the Milkovich family.


	18. Thanks for the Memories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the delay, this chapter should have been up two days ago. When you'll read it, you'll understand why it took me so long. Probably. Shout-out to Nuria, yet again, for helping me to figure out how to write the second part of this chapter.

Ian stirred, feeling his arms tightly wrapped around something hot. Something. He was still not actually used to have Mickey in bed like this with him – the thought of him leaving always buried deep inside his brain. Yet, Mickey was here. He always was.

His boyfriend was quietly asleep – small snores escaping his open mouth from time to time. His body fitted so well along Ian’s, like a piece of puzzle finally finding its match. Ian felt like he had actually found his own. All those weeks ago, Mickey was pondering whether Ian was it for him. Now, Ian knew. He knew that Mickey was it. Mickey was everything he could’ve hoped for. Everything Ian had dreamed of as a teenager was summed up into being Mickey freaking Milkovich. He knew it was silly of him, but he couldn’t stop himself from thinking that way.

The light from the almost full moon was lightening the room – and Mickey’s perfectly white skin – so well. Ian had taken upon himself to not close the curtains anymore before going to sleep. He loved waking up in the middle of the night and seeing his boyfriend soundly asleep, the glow from street lamps or the moon’s highlighting his body. He ran a hand down Mickey’s side, loving the way the hair rose, shivering. He made a small sound, a content one. Ian thought himself as lucky to have Mickey here – by his side, in his life.

He gently placed his hand below Mickey’s navel – fingers grazing at the hem of his boxers. Looking up to the alarm clock standing on his single nightstand, the red numbers read 6:11 AM. He left few kisses on the side of his neck before letting out a deep breath. He untangled himself from Mickey’s limbs to make his way to the bathroom.

A hand on his wrist stopped him short.

“Where are you going?” he heard Mickey’s small croaky morning voice.

“Meds. Go back to sleep,” he only replied. His answer mustn’t have been the one Mickey was expecting as he pulled him back to bed while muttering unintelligible words. Skillfully, he was laid back down against the mattress and anchored there by a leg and an arm thrown over his body.

He suppressed a smile at Mickey’s actions – he actually never minded when Mickey acted this way. He knew he was a sap, but even that made him fall harder for Mickey Milkovich – being anchored in bed. He loved that. He loved him.

He always let Mickey play him the way he wanted to, every time. Ian usually never let himself be played with anymore, but when it came to Mickey, he allowed everything. Feeling him pressed against his side, he remembered how the events had turned out – only a couple of days ago. It felt stupid to formulate it that way, but he had offered himself to Mickey. Ian wasn’t one to bottom, no. He didn’t particularly like the sensation of having something up his ass – even though it got him off pretty quickly or that he didn’t mind pounding into someone else. He knew it wasn’t for him, so he didn’t insist. Yet, having Mickey’s tongue or his fingers there, he’d loved it. He thought back to that time when the idea of bending over for Mickey had crossed his mind. If Mickey wanted to, he would bend over for him without a second thought. It wasn’t even a game of _‘I’m gonna do it so that he stays with me, so that he knows he can trust me’_. No. That wasn’t it. That wasn’t that anymore. Him going down on his knees to give Mickey what he wanted wouldn’t happen ever again. Him going down on his knees because he wanted to, that was what was going to happen from now on.

He knew that, to Mickey, there wasn’t any difference. Hell, his boyfriend was probably not even aware of what he had been up to these past times – giving him what he wanted because he was actually scared of losing him. This fear was gone now. He knew Mickey wanted him, no one else. Maybe that wasn’t love yet, maybe it would never be love, but that was something. He knew it was something Mickey had never experienced before – nor did he. He wanted him in every possible way.

“Babe,” Mickey shook him a bit.

“Babe?” Ian repeated, turning his face towards him.

“Finally,” he sighed. “Been talking to you for like five whole minutes. You were so gone.”

“So you babe’d me?”

“It was either that, shocking you. Or else, I could’ve pinched your side,” Mickey retorted.

“The pinching would’ve worked as well.”

“Yeah,” Mickey agreed, breathing deeply in Ian’s neck. “But I prefer marking your skin in another way.”

“Oh, you do?”

“Mhm hm,” was Mickey’s only response as he started mouthing at Ian’s neck. He teasingly bit at the junction where his neck met his shoulder before going back upwards to sloppily mouth at the sensitive spot behind his ear.

“I definitely prefer that as well,” Ian muttered, pressing Mickey closer to him. Ian shut off his thoughts, only enjoying the present moment. Mickey’s warm breath against his skin made him shiver. He shut his eyes, focusing on Mickey’s wet lips against his skin. The suctions were light, probably not enough to mark one’s skin, but considering Ian’s paleness, he assumed his skin was already bruising underneath Mickey’s mouth. Mickey’s hand settled flat on his stomach, holding himself propped higher this way. Slowly, he shifted on top of Ian and the redhead accompanied his movements by lacing his arms around his back.

He realized his breathing was becoming more intense as almost Mickey’s full weight was on top of him. One of his hand settled on the small of Mickey’s back – already wet with sweat. He shifted the other hand to cup at Mickey’s scalp – accompanying his movements as he shifted from Ian’s neck to his mouth.

He loved the bitter taste of Mickey’s mouth in the morning – that was something special he knew he had been the only one to ever taste. He’d hopefully remain the only one to have the chance to kiss Mickey in the morning before anything else happened. His mind wandered to the pressure he felt against his hip – Mickey’s erection. It didn’t last long, though, this thought. The feeling of Mickey’s tongue licking the seam of his lips brought his back quickly. He loved making Mickey wait for it, when the other man could only kiss his lips or lick them. He loved when Mickey did that and remained patient, not forcing his way in. He always caved, though. Ian always opened his mouth, just like that day, to let his boyfriend taste him.

He felt more than he heard Mickey moaning at the sensation. He lapped inside his mouth, feeling him melting against his body. _I love you_.

His eyes were pressed shut, but it was as if he could see everything. The feeling of Mickey’s body on top of his, the way he squirmed, the way he tilted his head slightly to the right to deepen their kiss, the way his hands ran up his sides. Everything. Everything was what he loved.

Gently, he made them roll over. He detached his mouth from Mickey’s to mirror the actions his boyfriend had previously done. He nipped at his earlobe first, before sucking at his neck lightly. He felt Mickey actually giggling against him.

“What?” he breathed.

“Nothing,” he replied only seconds after. Ian could hear the grin in his voice. Reluctantly, he parted from the expanse of white skin to look into the piercing blue eyes barely lighten by the moonlight. “You always do that.”

“Do what?” he asked genuinely, propped himself on his elbows – framing Mickey’s face.

“Take control,” Mickey answer sincerely.

“Don’t like that?”

“Did you hear me complain?” It was Ian’s turn to grin this time. Placing his hand against his neck, thumbing at his throat, he went back to sucking at his skin. He felt Mickey lightly laughing against him, and he couldn’t stop himself from smiling at how easy and simple it was to be with him. Sex used to be only sex. Right, it was fun with Shawn – like best friends getting each other off. It had never been like that, though. His former self would have worried about having his partner in bed laughing as they were both hard against the other one. With Mickey, he appreciated making him so carefree. He loved having him laugh, no matter when it happened.

He shifted on top of him, keeping on kissing his pearly white skin. Without actually noticing, he mouthed longer on the scars left on Mickey’s chest. He had absentmindedly learned where each scar stood – knowing which reaction would leave Mickey’s throat.

He was currently focusing his attention on a faint scar against his ribcage when he felt the shift in Mickey’s mood. His shallow breathing, parted with laughter changed into panting and barely hidden whines. He felt Mickey’s body squirming – probably involuntarily – beneath him. His legs were jittery until he hooked one of them around Ian. The redhead felt Mickey’s ankle going up and down his own thigh, digging in his flesh as much as possible.

With one last lick at this scar, he moved on to his nipples. He bit one teasingly, loving the way Mickey’s back arched away from the sheets in a single moan. Ian’s hand traveled from his other nipple – pinching it – downwards to his side, stroking the skin. He ran his hand even more south, staying on top of the clothing covering his boyfriend’s groin and buttocks. He settled it right below his ass cheek, lightly stroking the soft skin there.

After a moment, he felt Mickey getting restless beneath him. He simply hooked both of his thumbs in the elastic band of his underwear before pushing them down. He held himself over Mickey to get rid of the cloth more easily. Once they were hanging by his calves, Mickey kicked them away. He didn’t lose time before pressing himself back against Ian. He went back to devouring his mouth before Ian could do anything else. He let himself be kissed, he let Mickey taking control of this.

Without particularly noticing, his own underwear were tugged down by his boyfriend. He sighed contently in his mouth when their bare skins touched again. It felt so natural to be naked against him.

Mindlessly, he reached for the lubricant on the nightstand.

“Yes,” he felt Mickey murmuring against his lips. He poured some onto his fingers before reaching downwards. He slicked Mickey's hole messily before pushing his middle finger in in one go. “Fuck,” his boyfriend breathed. He rocked his hips slowly against Ian’s hand. Feeling him stretched around a single finger, Ian pushed his ring finger along with the other one, scissoring them once they were both inside. Mickey squirmed beneath him – panting in his mouth.

He didn’t finger him for long. He knew what Mickey was able to handle, he knew what he liked in bed – in life. He only thrust a couple of times with three fingers inside of him before retrieved them from his hole.

As he was about to lubricate himself, Mickey stopped him. “Use a condom.” Ian froze in this actions – hovering over him awkwardly. “Use one,” he insisted. “They’re gonna expire if we don’t use them anyways.”

Still, he wasn’t understanding Mickey’s way of thinking. He stayed there, unmoving above him. Mickey’s features softened as he looked at him. He slightly rose from the sheets to peck his lips.

“Use it. You’ll see,” he murmured against his lips feeling the wrapper of a condom being pressed against his bare chest. Mickey probably noticed he wouldn’t get any reaction from him so he took upon himself to handle the situation. He watched him tearing off the wrapper and rolling the condom on his own shaft. Mickey then lubricate it him before nipping at Ian’s ear. “Ian,” he breathing huskily. “Fuck me.”

Ian’s eyes casted downwards to look at the darkness of Mickey’s. His boyfriend seemed so genuine. Before his thoughts wandered back to insecurities, Ian got a hold of Mickey’s wrists and held them above his head – pinned against the pillow. Mickey grinned up at him, biting down his bottom lip.

There was a challenge in Mickey’s eyes – a dare. _What are you gonna do, Ian?_ Cockily, Mickey raised an eyebrow, as if he was waiting for Ian to do something. The redhead might have surprised him when he simply bent down to kiss his lips. He released one of Mickey’s wrists to gently cup at his jaw.

Mickey moaned into the kiss. It was sloppy with too much tongue – but Ian didn’t mind.

“I want you,” Mickey whimpered in his mouth. “Please,” he kept on. Ian felt a hand sneaking between their bodies. Mickey’s slicked fingers wrapped around his shaft before guiding it to his waiting hole. Once the tip of his penis was stretching his boyfriend’s hole, Ian slapped his hand away.

“Yeah, like that,” Mickey breathed when Ian grabbed his thigh to bend his leg. He pushed deeper inside him, pressing his eyes shut at the tightness Mickey’s hole was. “Ian,” he moaned, wrapping his arms around him.

Their bodies were pressed against the other one, melting together between the heat and the sweat surrounding them. He rocked his hips slowly at first, feeling Mickey’s muscles relaxing at every move.

“God, you feel so good,” Mickey babbled lowly. He narrowed the distance between their lips to shut himself up, but Ian was having none of that. With a deeper thrust inside him, he poked his tongue out playfully. Mickey rolled his eyes exasperatedly, letting his head drop heavily against the pillow. Closing his eyes, he suppressed a moan from escaping his throat too loudly.

Ian loved when Mickey was being vocal, so he teased him. He joined their chests once more as he sped up their pace. He went back to mouthing and sucking at Mickey’s neck.

“No, Ian,” Mickey groaned. His voice was hinting the contrary, though. It was tainted with arousal. “Stop that,” he kept on, louder noises escaping his throat. “Shit, Ian,” he gasped when – Ian assumed – he was brushed near his prostate. He kept on hitting that spot over and over again, not minding that they hadn’t gone at it for long or that he wasn’t even near his own climax. Mickey was so gone.

_I love you._

“God – Mickey,” he breathed against him. His boyfriend was clenching around his shaft over and over again – that was painfully pleasurable.

“I can’t – Ian,” Mickey moaned. Taking a handful of Ian’s ass, he stilled him deep down inside him. Ian looked down at him. His breathing wasn’t under control, messily inhaling and exhaling as if his lungs didn’t know how to function properly anymore.

Suddenly, Mickey grabbed his neck and crashed their lips together. Ian had barely time to respond – his hips remaining still – that he felt Mickey’s erection twitching between them. It was trapped between their chests. Ian heard Mickey whine one last time in his mouth before he felt semen tainting their chests. Mickey was breathless, trying to gain composure by licking in his mouth – in vain. Ian tried to chase Mickey’s orgasm by rocking his hips again, but he apparently didn’t need to as Mickey simply clenched around him harder.

“Fuck,” Mickey chuckled. “Come here,” he said kindly. He locked their lips once more for a short kiss before parting. “Pull out,” he told him. Ian narrowed his eyes at him, but did it anyways. Mickey got rid of the condom and tapping his thigh, he said, “Up here.”

“What?”

“Come on,” he grinned. “I didn’t want to taste my ass on your dick. Move up here.”

Ian shook his head at the comment and placed himself with his knees framing Mickey’s face. His boyfriend eagerly shortened the distance and wrapped his lips around the crown of his penis. He could probably already taste the precome leaking from its slit.

Ian held himself upward by gripping the headboard. Mickey was insanely good at blowing him – it drove him mad. He had this way of hollowing his cheeks, but at the same time not putting too much pressure. He always playfully licked at his slit, without it being too sensitive or painful. He knew exactly how to rock Ian’s world. But when he only used his mouth on his penis and let his hands wandered elsewhere – Ian felt blessed. He barely had time to understand what was happening that a finger was up his ass and his erection down his throat.

“Fuck, Mickey,” he grunted. If Mickey kept on that way, he wouldn’t last long – but in the end, that was probably the point of that. He rocked his hips slightly – a little bit of fucking Mickey’s mouth, a little bit of fucking himself on Mickey’s finger. When Mickey pushed another finger in and crooked them, Ian’s eyes crossed. “Shit, shit,” he murmured in a rush.

Mickey only hummed a moan around him. He buried his noise in Ian’s pubic hair once, twice – and Ian was gone. His hips stuttered in Mickey’s mouth before only the head of his penis remained inside Mickey.

One of his hand left the headboard to settle on Mickey’s hair, pulling gently at the dark locks. With one last lick of Mickey’s tongue, Ian’s orgasm hit him. He shot his load in Mickey’s mouth – and the feeling of him swallowing it all could make him hard again pretty quickly. Mickey sucked him clean as Ian’s hips rocked ever so slowly forwards – chasing down his orgasm.

“Christ,” he murmured.

He then sat down on Mickey’s ribcage, spent. His boyfriend had a lazy grin on his face, some come at the corner of his mouth. Ian thumbed it and Mickey sucked it clean before Ian could even think of it.

“Come on, move,” Mickey chuckled once more. Ian laid spent next to him, a lazy grin appearing on his face as well.

“Good morning,” he said jokingly.

“Yeah, good morning,” Mickey agreed.

***

Ian had just taken his medications, going back to an empty bedroom.

“Mick?” he called out.

“Go back to bed, I’m coming,” he heard as a response.

Not even five minutes later, Mickey was back to the bedroom – a plate of pop tarts and two mugs of coffee in hands. He settled the drinks on the nightstand but placed the food on the bed.

“We’re gonna get crumbs in bed,” Ian complained, but didn’t refrain himself from eating. Just as he was about to reach for one, Mickey slapped his hand away.

“Hey, I made you the cherry ones. You know I hate those.”

“What if I wanted the chocolate chip ones today?” Ian retorted just to tease him.

“Too bad for you then,” Mickey grinned as he bit exaggeratedly into one.

“You’re an ass.”

“You like it.” His grin didn’t falter as he chewed his food lazily. Approaching Ian, he swallowed his food. “You can still taste it on my lips,” he told him in a whisper.

“I can do that,” he agreed, capturing his lips.

***

Hours after, they were still in bed. There actually were crumbs in the bed, but he didn’t mind that much. He was more hypnotized by his boyfriend trying to put his foot behind his head while being sat on his lap.

“You can’t do it,” Ian told him, hands on Mickey’s hips to secure him in place.

“Shut up, I can. You know I’m flexible,” Mickey retorted.

“Just be limber,” Ian smiled at him. Mickey struggled for another minute before giving up – almost kicking Ian in the balls as his leg fell back down. “You’re gonna hurt yourself”.”

“Will not,” he said back. “Maybe I still can with the other.”

“Mick, I already know what you can do with your body –“

“But I can put my foot behind my head, you’ll see!”

“Alright, but then I’m allowed to laugh at you when I’ll be calling 911 on your ass.”

“Ah fucking ah, you’ll see I can do it.”

“Sure, you can.”

Ian smiled to himself as Mickey kept on struggling. He reached for his mug of coffee – now cold, but it had been for a long time anyways. His eyes never left Mickey – hands preventing him from falling from the bed.

Mickey’s phone started ringing on the nightstand, but his boyfriend didn’t seem to mind the least. Ian grabbed the device to see Mandy’s name on it.

“That’s your sister.”

“Answer then,” Mickey huffed, cheeks red and eyes crossing as he was trying to look at his foot – too near to his face.

“Hello?”

“And that’s not my brother,” Mandy replied.

“No, it’s Ian.”

“I assumed, yeah,” she laughed lightly. “My brother busy?”

“He’s actually trying to show me how flexible he can be.”

“Ew, gross, Ian! You don’t need to tell me that.” Mickey laughed at how red Ian must have turned.

“No, no! Not that way! He’s just trying to put his foot behind his head,” Ian explained, feeling himself blushing even harder than his teenage self.

“He still can do that?”

“He was actually able to at some point?” Ian asked, resulting in a sharp slap on his chest.

“Yeah, he can do weird shits with his body when he wants. Whatever,” and she left it at that.

“So, hm, you wanted to talk to him about something specific or something?” he asked, as if it was normal for him to talk to his boyfriend’s sister – as if they were friends.

“Please tell me he told you about the dinner tonight.”

“The – oh yeah, right. He did. Why, what’s up?”

“I just wanted to remind him considering he wasn’t _that_ up for it when I mentioned it.”

“Yeah, no. Apparently couple things like this isn’t his thing.”

“What does she want?” Mickey interrupted.

“Should’ve answered the phone if you wanted to know,” Ian retorted cheekily.

“Yeah well,” Mandy kept on. “Tell him that Jay and his boyfriend will be there as well.” And Ian’s heart sunk. He felt the color living his cheeks.

“They will?”

“Yeah, I mean it’s gonna be good, you know? I’m gonna properly meet my brother in law – I’m talking about you – and Jeremy his own as well. That’s gonna be cool,” she cheered.

“Yeah, cool,” he repeated with no joy in his voice.

“You don’t seem that happy about it. What’s up?”

“I don’t like him very much,” Ian said, eyes locked with Mickey’s. Mickey, who had given up trying to put his foot up behind his head. He was simply straddling Ian’s thighs, the covers brought up to his shoulders now.

“Who? Jay or his boyfriend?”

“Jay,” he only replied. He saw the way Mickey bit down his lip nervously.

“Really? Well, he’s not that bad, you’ll see! So we say 8 at the restaurant, right?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“See you there.”

“Yeah, later,” he finished before hanging up.

“Why were you talking about him?” Mickey asked shyly.

“He’s coming with his boyfriend tonight.”

“I can cancel if you want,” Mickey instantly offered, hands going up Ian’s chest.

“Nah, it’s okay,” Ian shook his head – trying to shake the thoughts away.

“You sure? I mean –“

“You’re with me,” Ian cut him off.

“What?”

Ian sighed and sat up. He placed his hands on Mickey’s small back. Their faces were only inches away. “You’re with me, Mick. Not him.” _You love me_. “I can dislike him all I want but at the end of the day you come back to me, not him, and I don’t even think you’d want to come back to him.”

“No, I don’t want to go back to him,” Mickey agreed – eyes locked with Ian. “I want to go back home to you,” he told you in a whisper.

“I’m not afraid,” Ian assured him. He meant it. It used to be fear, but not anymore. “I just don’t like him and don’t want to spend time with him.”

“I get it,” Mickey nodded. “But I’m with you,” he said before sealing their lips.

Ian pressed them together, making them roll in bed to have Mickey on his back.

“There are crumbs,” Mickey complained in his mouth.

“Whose fault is that?” Ian retorted, breaking the kiss. Mickey only smirked before Ian went back to kissing him.

He definitely didn’t fear anything from Jay. No. Not when Mickey was in bed with him and that they’d spent their morning together like they’d done. Not when none of them had found their way to the bathroom to finally freaking brush their teeth. Not when the sheets were dirty from sweat and come – and now crumbs. Not when Mickey’s breathing was uneven thanks to him or when they used condoms for the sake of it. Not when Mickey laughed in bed or blushed. Not when he tried things like putting his fingers up Ian’s ass without asking permission. He didn’t fear any of that when Mickey recounted him the stories of this or that scar or when he told him about his family. There was nothing to envy from Jay anymore. He had Mickey in a way he had never dared wanting him. He loved the Mickey he had grew to know, not the one he used to have a crush on.

***

The apartment was a mess when they left it. The sheets were dirty – bed still unmade. They had eaten a late lunch there as well. The bottle of lube had found its way to the bathtub, somewhat. The towels there were damp, and the floor was as well. One of Ian’s toy had been left in the bathroom sink – _we’ll take care of it later_.

Ian was in such a good mood when they walked down the streets. He knew that if he tried, Mickey wouldn’t mind them to hold hands. But he didn’t, it felt good enough to walk next to his boyfriend silently. The streets were covered with snow yet again. They, from time to time, helped the other one to stand still after having slipped – or the other way around; pushing this person lightly for them to lose balance.

They were the last ones to arrive at the restaurant. It was fancier than Ian had expected, but it didn’t puzzle him that much. They made their way around the tables, led by who was apparently their waiter. Their table was more like a round booth in one of the corner of the restaurant – a little bit more private than the other tables.

Mandy shot up from her sit on the leathered bench when she saw them.

“You’ve made it,” she said loudly as she jumped into her brother’s arms. Ian smiled shyly at the three other men sitting at the table.

“Don’t sound so surprised,” Mickey retorted, but placed his hand flat on her back to return the hug. “And don’t act as if we haven’t seen each other in months. I’ve seen you not even a week ago.”

“Sorry to be happy to see my douchebag of a brother,” she retorted jokingly, putting an end to the embrace. “Ian,” she greeted him with a bright smile. He was about to answer when she laced her arms around him as well.

“Hm, hi,” he awkwardly said.

“It’s gonna be find,” she told him. “You’ll see. If they piss you off, I got your back, alright?” she kept on, squeezing his shoulders.

He vaguely heard Mickey greeting the other men by a simple, “Hey guys.”

“Thank you,” he told her shyly.

“No problems,” she then turned towards the table. “So, guys. This is Ian –“

“Aren’t I supposed to be the one doing this?” Mickey intervened. Mandy didn’t mind his intervention, though.

“The man who stole my brother’s heart. Ian, this is Jeremy. He’s my boyfriend, but I think you know that. On his left, this is Jay – as you know. And next to him is Rami, his boyfriend.”

“Hm, hi guys,” he greeted them with as well.

“He didn’t steal my heart,” Mickey told his sister.

“Oh right, I forgot. You don’t have one,” she said, not missing a bit. The grins they gave each other meant much more than their words.

“I forgot how funny you were. Come on,” he said, pushing her so that she went back to her place next to her boyfriend. Mickey slipped in right after her and startled Ian by taking his hand so that he followed him. Mickey probably didn’t mean to, but the way they were settled put Ian right in front of Jay. That was about to be a long night.

***

Ian couldn’t stop himself from wondering what the hell Mickey and Jay had found in each other. This wasn’t the jealousy talking, he was genuinely wondering. Jay was younger than them, and acted like it. He was the kind of guy Mickey would’ve get pissed at back when he’d been working at Icarus. And physically, Mickey always told him how much he loved his pale skin, his freckles and all that. Jay didn’t have these. He wasn’t bad looking, but there wasn’t these things Mickey liked.

As for Rami, the guy had nothing on Mickey. They didn’t look alike at all, and behavior wise neither. The man wasn’t that bad, actually. He made jokes – bad ones, but that didn’t fail to make them crack up.

It felt nice to have Mickey so relaxed around other people – he wasn’t used to it. His boyfriend laughed and talked about shit with everyone around the table. Ian remained his pretty silent self. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to participate, but he listened. He took everything in. The way Jeremy leaned against his girlfriend and put more distance between him and his own brother. The way Mandy shone with happiness with the men of her life surrounding her. The way Mickey’s hand found its way to Ian’s knee almost absentmindedly. He watched as Rami shot weird looks at Mickey – ones he couldn’t decipher the meanings of. He watched also as Jay tried to get – and managed to – Mickey’s attention at every conversation. He didn’t mind, it was harmless.

He took another sip from his glass of red wine, a bright secret smile coming from Mickey. He knew Mickey disliked wine, and later, he would give him shit with it – kissing him lengthily as the taste was still in his mouth.

“So, Ian,” Jeremy said, swallowing his bite of gnocchi with cheese sauce. “You don’t talk much.”

“That’s what growing up with too many siblings does to someone,” he replied with a shy smile. He felt Mickey’s hand on his knee squeezing hard – reassuring.

“Hm, we gotta make you talk then,” he kept on, almost to himself. “Mick told us you’ve found a new job. When do you start?”

“He did?”

“I wasn’t lying when I said you stole my brother’s heart,” Mandy told him.

“Stop with that shit already,” Mickey grumbled. Ian grinned at the small blush creeping up his boyfriend’s neck. He could also see, out of the corner of his eyes, the way Jay seemed a bit uncomfortable at the interaction.

“I’m starting on Monday,” Ian answered at last. “They thought it was better to start with the new team for the new year or whatever.”

“And what would you be doing?” Jay asked, surprising the whole table.

Ian refrained himself from spitting at him that it was none of his business. “I’m gonna be the new head of department’s secretary or kind of personal assistant.”

“Mickey always had a thing for guys in suits, right?” Mandy joked, turning towards Jeremy who agreed with her.

“Yeah, just imagine how he’s gonna be when I’ll come home wearing those five days a week,” Ian laughed as well.

“I pity your neighbors,” Mandy said.

“Plus the walls are pretty thin, right? It’s not like you can hear absolutely everything,” Jay added, cocking an eyebrow. Jeremy frowned at his brother, clearly understanding what he was meaning. He stopped Ian from making a snarky comment by refocusing on the right conversation.

“Don’t let them treat you like a slave or something,” he told him. “I know how these assholes can be.”

“He doesn’t need protection,” Mickey retorted.

“It’s okay. Don’t worry,” Ian soothed him – feeling him tense. “And I’ve already met them. They’re pretty nice actually.”

“That’s great then.”

“Not every bosses are assholes like yours, guys,” Mandy said, looking at both her brother and her boyfriend.

“Yeah, don’t tell me,” Mickey huffed.

“What did Ed do?” Jay frowned. He turned to his own boyfriend, “Ed’s Mickey’s boss at Icarus, you know?”

“Yeah, right,” he nodded.

“ _Was_. Ed _was_ my boss,” Mickey corrected him. “Isn’t anymore.”

“What happened? Why didn’t you –“ _Why didn’t you tell me?_ Yeah, that was probably the question Jay had wanted to ask before cutting himself short.

“Because it’s none of your business,” Ian replied, trying to remain as composed as possible.

“Can we talk about something else?” Mickey asked.

“Yes,” Mandy said loudly. She was clearly relieved to change topic. “Do you know who Mystery Man is?”

“Who?” Ian asked.

“Oh God,” he heard Mickey mutter, bowing his head and hiding his face with his hand.

“Oh come on, I’m sure I’m the only one who doesn’t know who this guy was,” she complained.

“What makes you so sure?” Jeremy asked.

“See, that’s what makes me so sure. You know who this guy was. Jay probably knows since Mickey and him were always together only months ago. And Ian probably knows. Ian, please,” she concluded making a pouting face.

“Alright, yes. I know who Mystery Guy is,” he complied.

“Who?”

“I’m not gonna tell you,” he said, glaring at Jay. The other man mirrored his glare. “He isn’t worth it anyways.”

“You suck,” Mandy told him, with no real venom behind it. “I’ll figure it out one day,” she sighed. _You will_ , Ian thought.

“I bet he does,” he heard Jay muttering.

“You’ve got a problem, man?” he asked him loudly, trying to control himself as much as humanly possible. The food in his plate was quickly forgotten.

“Nope,” he answered cheekily. “Don’t have any problem here. Do you?” The raised eyebrow made Ian want to punch him.

Rami seemed puzzled by the interaction between the two. He was the one who brought up another subject of conversation – apparently relieving Mickey.

***

This dinner was definitely showing that even in a world where nothing would have happened between Jay and Mickey, he would hate the other man nonetheless. There was this something in him he loathed.

“So, when are you finally moving out?” Jeremy asked to his brother.

“Move out?” Rami intervened.

“Yeah, I think I need to get out of my parents’ place. It’s getting horrible there,” he explained him. “I need to find somewhere else to go.”

“You still can crash with me in the meantime,” he heard his own boyfriend’s voice saying.

Jay was about to answer, but Ian cut him short. “You’re serious right now?” he asked, turning towards Mickey. His boyfriend had already let it slip that Jay had a key to his place before, and he had kept the rage to himself – reminding himself that Mickey spent all his time at his place anyways. “Him still having the key to your place isn’t enough?”

Mickey seemed speechless, just like the other persons around the table – except for Rami. “You have a key to his place?”

“Hm, it’s –“ Jay started but Ian cut him short. He wasn’t about to let him bullshit the truth.

“Yes, he does!”

 “Wait, you and my brother were together?” Mandy asked Jay – apparently finally piecing everything together.

“No,” was Mickey’s answer.

“Yes, you were,” Ian surged. “You were with this piece of shit.”

“Hey, don’t talk about my brother like that,” Jeremy told him.

“I can talk about him however I want,” Ian retorted. He felt the anger rising within him. “He’s the one who slept with _my_ boyfriend.”

“You did what?” Rami seemed even more clueless than Mandy. Ian should pity him.

“Oh, you didn’t know?” He said instead, hating himself for being the one to break the news to the other man. “That they get high and drunk together and they miss us so much that they decide to sleep together to make up for it.”

“High?” Jeremy’s voice said.

“That’s not what happened and you know it,” Mickey argued. “Come on, Ian.”

“Oh, sorry for caring about the man I’m with cheating on me,” he told him.

“So, you slept with him?” he heard Rami asked Jay. Ian’s gaze never left Mickey’s, though.

“Not really –“

“When did that happened, hm? Christmas break? How come I didn’t know about it?”

“It was a long time ago, and I didn’t want to hurt you,” Jay lamely explained.

“I guess Mickey don’t want to hurt Ian as well, but he told him,” Rami stated. Ian could her the lump in the man’s throat as he talked.

“So you’re on his side now?” Jay laughed drily.

“I’m not on anyone’s side. I’m just believing the ones who don’t lie,” he replied coldly.

A heavy silence settled at the table. Ian was still boiling with anger, he wanted to be mad at Mickey. His boyfriend was trying so hard every time the Jay-conversation was brought up. But when the man was actually present, it wasn’t the same.

“So, drugs?” Mandy asked, looking at her brother. “Mickey, I thought you were over it.”

“Oh, give me a break,” he spat at her. “It was a one-time thing.”

“You sure about that?” Ian couldn’t stop himself from wondering out loud. “I mean, we don’t exactly know what happened during this Christmas trip.”

“What?” Mickey seemed genuinely confused.

“I don’t know, maybe you lied about other things. Do I really know you in the end?”

“Ian, don’t be so dramatic.”

“Dramatic?”

“Yeah, we were enjoying his dinner,” Jeremy muttered.

“I’m not the one who fucks up things, Jeremy. They are,” Ian said, turning towards him.

“You’re the one messing everything up right now,” Jay retorted.

“Yeah? But whose fault was that at first?”

“Ian –“ Mickey tried.

“No, you know what? Enjoy your dinner,” he said, standing up. He reached for his wallet and threw bills on the table. “That should cover it,” he said before grabbing his coat and walking off.

He tried to stand proudly as he walked around the tables – despite the tears threatening to fall. He heard Mickey’s voice calling his name behind him, but ignored it.

The cold from the end of December hit him harder than earlier, making him tighten his arms around himself.

“Ian!” Mickey yelled once more, catching his arm and turning him around.

“What?” he asked, tired.

“I’m sorry.”

“Apologies don’t mean shit,” he sighed, turning back around.

“Ian –“

“What, Mickey? What? I’m tired of fighting for you, you know? I’m tired of feeling like shit because he still has that much power over you whenever you’re together. You know I’d overcome this fear. The one with you going back to him once you’ll be bored with me. I was honestly over it. But with tonight? I frankly wonder why the hell we’re still together.”

“Why did you stay, then?” Mickey asked bitterly. “What did you stay if it’s for blaming me like this every time? He needs my help, Ian. I cannot _not_ help him when he needs to. That’s the way it is, you know that. I cannot _not_ care about him, Ian.”

“He grew up, Mickey. He’s not the high school kid you’ve helped. He fucking grew up! He’s not a kid seeking for help anymore!”

“Well, he’ll always be to me,” Mickey said, defeated.

“So, if I want to have a serious relationship with you, I gotta be second. That’s what you’re saying, you know.”

“No, that’s not that. Ian –“

“Explain then. Explain to me why he always comes first in the end!”

“I’m fucking scared, alright?” Mickey shouted back. “I’m fucking scared of losing him. But I’m even more scared of losing you, Ian! He was everything before you. If I didn’t have you, I’d only have him! I don’t know how to do relationships, you know that. I guess I suck at it since I’m always hurting you, but I don’t want him out of my life like this, Ian.”

“Don’t play with me,” Ian muttered. He felt the tears forming in his eyes. He didn’t want to cry. He wanted to be stronger than that.

“I’m not. I’m serious. I want us to work.”

“I’m falling in love with you, you know,” Ian whispered, looking down. “So, Mickey, please. Don’t play with me.” After a long minute of silence, he looked up to see Mickey’s surprise. The other man was once more speechless, staring at him with this strange look on his face. He couldn’t take it. “I should’ve known that,” he muttered before turning on his heels and started walking back to his place.

“No, hey!” He heard after few steps. “Ian! I wasn’t prepared for you to say that, that’s all!”

He didn’t look back, though. He only walked away.

***

By the time he reached his apartment, he was frozen. The tears had swollen his eyes with his stubbornness to not let them fall. Closing the door behind him, he slide against it. He hugged his knees and let himself cry. He let himself sob over a man he was truly in love with.

Only after a few minutes, he shook his head – trying to clear the thoughts away.

He stood up with difficulty to make his way to his room. The tears nearly fell again at the sight on his bed, of the plates still piled up on his nightstand. Sniffing loudly, he turned off the lights, took his clothes off and entered his bed.

It smelled like sweat and sex. And Mickey. His sheets were filled with Mickey’s scent – it was making his head spin. He reached for Mickey’s pillow without noticing and hugged it tight. His heart was pounding in his chest, he was scared. Mickey knew almost everything about him – including that he loved him. And he hadn’t said a thing. Ian had never felt so broken – not even when he was in a low phase.

 

* * *

 

Mickey remained frozen in the middle of the street. Ian had just told him he loved him, and took off. He hadn’t been able to utter these words back. He couldn’t. Not when there was Jay on his mind as well.

Disgust was floating in his brain as he stood there, unmoving. He wanted to go after Ian, he really did. He knew better, though.

Slowly, he started walking backwards towards the restaurant. The waiter at the entrance wanted to stop him, probably seeing his determined look and the way he was clenching his fists – the ink on them clearly visible. He ignored him, though.

He walked straight to their table and stopped short in front of it.

“Mickey –“ Mandy started saying, the relief obvious in her voice.

“The key,” he demanded, staring at Jay.

“Mickey, I –“ the other man tried to argue. He didn’t let him.

“The key,” he repeated harshly. Jay sighed but complied. He took his set of keys out of his pocket and took the one to Mickey’s place out of the ring.

“That shouldn’t belong to you,” he spat as he snatched to key out of Jay’s hand.

“Hey, calm down,” Jeremy said.

“Calm down? Stop pretending that you protect him when you weren’t there when he needed to.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“You weren’t there, alright? You fucked off to college and he didn’t have anyone apart from me.”

“Mickey,” Jay sighed. He didn’t want to do this.

“No, you really did. The only support you’d had fucked off. Never calling you. You only had me!”

“He was seventeen, Mickey!” Jeremy argued.

“That wasn’t like that,” Mickey dismissed him with a wave of his hand.

“That’s not like that anymore,” Jay told him. “This isn’t like that anymore, Mick.”

“Don’t you Mick me,” he muttered.

“Why did you come back here, Mick?” Mandy asked lowly. She scooted closer to him and out of the booth. She placed a hand on his back that he shrugged off but she put it back again.

“I fucked up,” he muttered, not caring anymore about the way his voice flinched. “He loves me.”

“I know he does,” she muttered, wrapping her arms around him quickly. She then led towards the bathroom for some privacy. The couple nearby gave them a disgusted glare, to which Mandy replied, “Oh fuck off, we’re siblings!”

She closed and locked the door behind them and looked at him straight in the eye.

“What did you do?”

“I fucked up. Again. And he loves me and I wasn’t able to say it back. I – I couldn’t.”

“But you do, though,” she provided.

“Yes, I fucking do,” he sighed. “I’m constantly fucking up, Mands. And I can’t blame it on Jay or the drugs or whatever this time. This is all on me.”

“I know it is,” she only replied. “Let him think about it for tonight, alright?”

“What do you want me to do anyways? Go back to him with a bouquet of flower and a card saying ‘I fucked up, take me back’? Not likely.”

“You can always explain it to him.”

“I’m always explained everything. I’m tired, Mands.”

“And don’t you think he is as well? Imagine Ian telling his ex to come live with him. Imagine him having the key to his place and being able to go there whenever he wants when you don’t have one. Put yourself in his shoes.”

“Jay’s not my ex.”

“And stop pretending that. I don’t know how the hell have I never noticed it but the two of you were clearly together. But, Mickey,” she said, grabbing his shoulders. “I meant it when I said he stole your heart. He definitely did.”

“Yeah, he did,” he agreed in a mutter. Mandy smiled shyly at his comment.

“Come on, go home. Sleep it off and go see him tomorrow. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

“Alright,” he reluctantly agreed. He didn’t want to go back to his own apartment. Ian’s one felt like home, not his. “Here,” he said, handing some money to his sister. “My part.”

“No, Mickey. Don’t do that.”

“You’re not gonna pity me ‘cause I’m unemployed and soon single again, right?”

“You know I don’t.”

“Then take the money, Mands. I’m not letting my little sister pay for me.”

He forced her to take the bills before leaving the bathroom – and the restaurant itself.

***

He almost wanted to slap himself when he made his way to Ian’s apartment instead of his own. He placed his hand against the plywood of Ian’s door, refraining the tears from falling.

“Shit,” he muttered before going for the stairwell.

He hated going back to his apartment. Simply hated it. He had the key to Ian’s place, most of his clothes were there anyways. This place, where he stood, wasn’t his home – hadn’t been for weeks. He just wanted to go to Ian’s, crawl in the(ir) bed and hug him. He wouldn’t mind apologizing over and over again – doing everything he could to show him he cared; to show him he loved him back.

Instead, he stood there – wondering. He made his way to his bedroom and slumped in bed. He hugged the blanket tight against him – Ian’s scent from the time they’d had sex right before Christmas still lingered there.

He let the tears fall, he didn’t want to fight them. There was no point in doing so anyways.

***

His eyes hurt when he woke up. He assumed they were swollen and red. He didn’t care. His night had been restless, a void in his chest forbidding him to get proper sleep.

He rubbed his eyes and reached for his jeans’ pocket – in which his phone had remained. There wasn’t any text or missed phone call – not that he expected some. It was 8:12 AM. He got up and went to his bathroom to refresh a bit.

There, tapped on his mirror was a note. Frowning, he took the post-it off of the surface.

 _Did you notice your toothbrush and all?_  
_They’re not here. Yeah, you aren’t neither._  
 _But you took them from my place. Ours?_

He had to bite the inside of his cheek to prevent the tears from falling. He put the note in his jeans’ pocket and resumed what he had gone there to do – cleaning his face, brushing his teeth.

On his way out, he noticed another yellow paper, out of the corner of his eye, stuck on his fridge.

 _When was the last time you ate here?_  
_You’re stealing all my food._  
 _But I don’t mind, nah, I don’t._

It was hard to not crack a smile at Ian’s shitty handwriting. But when he reminded himself of how he had fucked everything up, every hint of joy left his body anyways.

_What’s the point of having your own apartment?  
_

This one was stuck on his oven.

_I miss you already,_   
_Come back home._

And that one on his TV.

He tried to not cry, he couldn’t cry. He escaped his apartment and breathed in deeply in the hallway. Once he felt like he wasn’t about to lose it, he made his way towards the stairwell.

He lightly knocked on Ian’s front door. Many times. There weren’t any answer, though. He palmed the key for few minutes – trying to know if that was a good idea to let himself in. With the argument that he practically lived there anyways, he inserted the key in the lock – only to find that the apartment wasn’t even locked to begin with.

“Ian?” He called loudly. The place was exactly how they had left it the night before. He felt his heart beating faster at the memories. “Ian?”

He heard something from within the bedroom, so he made his way there. Ian was under the covers, his bare back to him.

“Ian,” he only said lowly.

“Go away,” he heard. Mickey insisted, though, as he made his way towards him. “Leave me alone.”

“We need to talk, Ian,” he muttered – talking as lowly as Ian did.

“I said go away,” Ian’s voice sounded tired.

“Did you take your meds?” he asked. Ian didn’t look as if he had moved from this spot since the night before. Hell, everything stood frozen, still, around them.

“Jesus! Leave me alone,” he yelled, before hiding under the covers even more. Mickey, startled, took a step back at the screams. These words hit him harder than expected. Then he remembered. He remembered, and he had never felt that scared in his life.

He took his phone out of his pocket, not minding Ian’s notes falling to the floor. Finding the number he was looking for, he pressed dial. He made his way to the small hallway, closing the bedroom door.

“Hello?” he said, his voice quivering, when the line connected. “Shawn? It’s Mickey. He won’t get up – I – I don’t know what to do, man. He won’t take his meds and he won’t get up,” he repeated. The tears were swelling in his eyes. “What do I do?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will probably take longer to update as well (due to its content, obviously, but I also have exams).


	19. His tears are soothing the Fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Small notes:  
> 1- This chapter should've been up over six hours ago, but college decided I shouldn't have internet anymore (and AO3 was like, _'hm, no. you're not posting nearly 10k from your phone.'_ ).  
> 2- Title is from a line of a French song (rearranged). It isn't exactly what I want it to be, but it'll do.  
> 3- This is the last chapter of the story, next one being the epilogue.  
> 4- Thanks to: Nuria, once again, for helping to figure out some parts of this chapter. Meggy, for her knowledge of Chinese food (I personally don't care how things are called, I eat them. Period). And also thanks to Claudia for the support, even though she thought she was better than you all and that she deserved to have this chapter six hours ago via whatsapp.

“Where is he?” A blond man burst into Ian’s apartment. Shawn, he supposed. Their first meeting was pretty ironic, in Mickey’s opinion.

“Bedroom,” he only replied, rubbing his eyes. He didn’t care for the tears. He shot up from his seat on the couch to follow him towards the bedroom. Shawn stilled at the threshold, probably taking in the sight of Ian’s bare back facing them.

“Shit,” he muttered.

“You’ve ever dealt with that before?” Mickey couldn’t stop himself from asking lowly.

“No. And I wished I would never need to,” he replied in a sigh. He took a step back and entered the bathroom behind them. “Oh, hm,” he cleared his throat as he stood in front of Ian’s medicine cabinet. Mickey followed his line of sight and turned red instantly.

He grabbed the first towel nearby and threw it in the sink to hide the vibrator which was still there. “Sorry.”

“Don’t worry. It’s not like I’m surprised or anything,” he said with a shy smile. “Hm, look. You know his dosage?”

“Yeah,” Mickey answered, opening the cabinet. He ignored the list taped inside of it, he knew Ian’s prescription by heart now.

“Gonna go get some water,” the other man mumbled as he left the room. Mickey cautiously took the pills out of their orange containers, wondering how these little things could have that much impact on someone.

They met in the bedroom yet again, and Mickey handed the medication to Shawn. The blond knelt in front of Ian, putting a gentle hand on his bare shoulder.

“Hey, Ian,” he murmured.

“What do you want?” Ian mumbled back.

“You need to take your meds, you know that.”

“I know,” Ian sighed heavily, shifting the covers on top of him.

“You know what happens if you don’t.”

“I fucking know,” he replied, with most force.

“Ian –“

“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” he surged. He snatched the pills from Shawn’s hand and swallowed them dry. Shawn shot him a look, making him grab the glass and downing most of it in one go. “Happy?”

“Ian –“

“I’m not fucking depressed. You don’t have to put me on suicide watch,” he spat, but Mickey could hear his voice quivering. He took a step forwards, wanting to soothe his boyfriend – well. “I’m fucking heartbroken, that’s fuck all.”

“Ian, I –“

“I think you should go, Mickey,” Shawn told him, an apologetic smile tearing his features.

“Yeah,” he agreed, looking down. He motioned with his thumb that he was going to the other room – to which Shawn replied with a sympathetic nod.

“The door, Mickey,” he heard when he walked towards the kitchen. Yeah, obviously. He went to close it then slid down next it – taking his head in his hands as he listened.

***

The voices were muffled for the first few minutes. He tried to listen, he really did. Until –

“Hey, stop that shit with me, Ian, alright?” he heard Shawn’s voice filling the room loudly. He shot up, ready to intervene but then he managed to hear Ian’s low and quivering voice.

“I’m sorry.” There was a sob afterwards, which became stronger until he effectively heard his boyfriend cry. He didn’t want to hear that. He didn’t want to know he was the reason why Ian was in this state. He didn’t want to not be able to be the one comforting him in the end. He wasn’t jealous of Shawn’s presence. He was only mad at the fact that he needed someone else to take care of Ian. He wasn’t even able to take care of his own boyfriend when it was needed. He felt pathetic.

He slid down against the wall again, and focused on Ian’s voice. He caught bribes of the words Ian was telling his friend. It made his heart cringed when he heard, ‘ _he loves him_.’

He wanted to barge in, to tell Ian how wrong he was. No, he didn’t love Jay. That wasn’t like that. He didn’t see himself in few years spending freaking Christmas with Jay. He didn’t see himself coming home from work to Jay. He didn’t see himself trying to freaking cook for Jay. No. All these images in his head, they only had Ian in them. Ian being happy to be with him – Ian loving him.

The redhead should’ve known that he loved him back. It seemed obvious to Mickey how much he loved Ian. He’d thought his boyfriend would’ve understood, or at least assumed things. But, no. He had to fuck up again and to let Ian think he wasn’t worth it. He was so worth it.

Maybe last night had been a wake-up call for him; _choose or life is going to do it for you_. He didn’t want to have to choose between the two. They didn’t have the same importance to Mickey. Ian was everything Mickey could have hoped for. He could even see perfection in his flaws. All the little details he hated in Ian, he found himself missing them when the redhead tried to make them disappear. He loved everything about him, and felt even more pathetic to know he wasn’t even capable of showing him that. Ian deserved to be loved. He deserved every positive things the world could give him. He didn’t deserve crying over a man he loved in his bed because the said man was constantly fucking up.

And Jay. He had honestly missed him. These past weeks without him, they had been okay. Ian was with him, so he didn’t have much time to think about the other man. When Ian was busying his mind, nothing else mattered. But, seeing Jay the previous week, spending some time with him, he had missed it. He had missed being there for him, listening to him. Jay was still a kid to him – a teenager. His mind seemed to dissociate the Jay he used to sleep with and the Jay he had known all these years ago. He still felt like helping him because no one else was there to do it. He still felt needed and wanted – not in a sexual way. No. It wasn’t like that anymore – if it had ever been. Jay had been the first person to like Mickey’s presence, and to show him so. Apart from Mandy, Mickey used to have no one back then. He couldn’t just erase an important part of his life just like that. He knew he should move on. Especially now that he had finally realized the younger man had moved on. Jay didn’t need him anymore. No one needed him. He was just there, filling the void for someone until they realized how useless he was.

The door opened next to him.

“Come on, don’t cry as well,” Shawn told him softly as he looked down at him. The blond man’s hair was a mess – fingers having run through the curls probably too many times. His eyes were a bit rimmed as well. “Go in,” he said next, tilting his head towards the inside of the bedroom.

“You’re sure?” he asked, standing up and taking a step forwards nonetheless. Shawn gave him a small smile before pushing him a little so that he could close the door behind him.

The atmosphere felt heavy around him – as if every mistakes he’d ever made were floating around him. He looked towards Ian, who was now lying on his back – the covers stopping mid-waist. His eyes were red. There were too many used tissues on the nightstand. He snorted lightly, remembering when the tissues had another utility.

The door reopened behind him.

“Oh, hm, sorry,” Shawn said. He walked to the nightstand and grabbed the plates they had left there yesterday. When he made his way back to the door, he nudged gently at Mickey’s shoulder. “Talk to him,” he whispered before leaving again.

Ian was staring intently at him. He then patted at the space next to him on the bed, motioning for him to come over. Mickey complied, taking his shoes off messily in the short walk between where he stood and the bed. He sat down next to him, legs crossed. But Ian seemed to have another idea in mind as he tugged at his legs – making him sit up against the headboard.

“I’m sorry,” Mickey muttered as Ian laid his head on his thigh. His hand automatically found its way to Ian’s head, playing with the growing hair.

“Don’t apologize,” Ian said as lowly.

“I mean it, I’m sorry, Ian. Truly am.”

“I meant it, you know,” Ian responded, as if he didn’t care about Mickey’s words. His gaze was lost somewhere in the room as he spoke.

“Which part?” Mickey felt like asking.

“Everything,” Ian laughed drily. “I do love you, but I’m just so tired of fighting for you, Mick.” Absentmindedly, Mickey swept away the single tear running down Ian’s cheek.

“I meant it as well,” he found himself saying. “I’m scared of losing you. It is truly scaring the shit out of me sometimes; how much I care.”

“Yeah, but you care about him that way as well.”

“No.”

“You said so last night.”

“It’s not the same, Ian. You know it’s not the same. I care about him the same way I care about my sister.”

“It’s an odd comparison knowing you two used to fuck,” Ian snickered, not letting go of his leg nonetheless.

“I know but, Ian, I don’t know how to explain that,” he simply said, sighing. “I got my key back,” he told him instead.

“So?”

“So? I don’t understand the use of him having a key to my place now. Just like I don’t see the use of having my own place, knowing I’ve spent the past few weeks in here.”

“You’ve found my notes,” Ian stated. He could feel his heart pounding in Ian’s chest – heart pounding against his leg.

“I did,” he confirmed, still stroking his hair. “And if last night hadn’t happened, I would have said _yes, Ian, yes I want to live with you_.”

“But last night did happen,” Ian reminded him.

“I know. But it was bound to happen, wasn’t it? I mean, I can’t erase him from my life and I sure as fuck don’t want to erase _you_ from it.”

“Was I a rebound, though?” Ian asked him, taking him aback.

“A rebound?”

“Yeah, like him finding someone else so you had to find someone else too, to prove how much you didn’t care."

“No, you weren’t. You’re not,” he replied, not having to think about it. “I think I fell for you even before Jay found himself someone else. I fell for you for who you are, not because I needed to. _Christ_ , Ian. I fell for you in a way I’ve never fell for someone else. No, not even him.” He felt Ian shifting against him, his pants getting wet towards where Ian’s face was. “No, please. _Fuck_. Don’t cry, Ian,” he told him. He shifted on the bed as well to lie next to him. Both on their sides, facing each other, Mickey took Ian’s face in his hands. “I was never seeking for a rebound. I was never even looking. I’ve never compared you to him, ‘cause what is there to compare? I don’t want him, Ian. I’ve – Shit, ever since I’ve met you. I’ve never wanted him that way.”

The tears didn’t stop falling from Ian’s eyes – probably without him meaning to. Mickey tried to sweep away the tears, but he couldn’t erase them all. He slid one of his hands behind Ian’s head, cupping his skull, before pressing him against his higher waist.

“Stop crying, Ian. Please. I – I’m so sorry I’m doing this to you,” he rambled. He wanted to soothe Ian, to do everything he could to show him he cared. “You honestly freaked me out earlier,” he told him. “You freaked me out earlier, and last night. I don’t want to lose you, Ian. Fuck – I love you, you should know that. I fucking love you. Not him, not anyone else. You, Ian. I love everything about you, even when – even when it’s you hating me. I don’t deserve you, I –“

“Don’t say that,” Ian murmured.

“I’m not saying it for you to tell me I’m wrong like in some rom com. I honestly think that, Ian. I’m constantly hurting you, you don’t deserve that. Hell, no one does, but especially not you. You deserve to be happy. You deserve having someone by your side when needed. Fuck, you deserve someone like Shawn –“

“You don’t know him.”

“I don’t. But I clearly see he’s everything I’m not.”

“Well, he’s clearly not what I want considering I’ve fell for you in a matter of months, in a way I’ve never done for him,” Ian retorted. Ian parted from Mickey’s shoulder, quickly putting his lips on his. Taken off guard, Mickey had barely time to respond before it was over. Ian’s lips hovered over his as he talked. “I love you, Mickey. I can’t ask you to choose. Look what happened last time. But I can’t do this if it’s for ending up like this every once in awhile.”

“You don’t have to,” Mickey rushed to say. His eyes were locked with Ian’s – mere inches separating them. “You don’t have to make me choose, Ian. You just have to understand that I need him in my life a bit. Just as a friend, as a little brother – whatever. He’ll never be more, never will if you’re here.”

“You’re saying that if, hm, when I won’t be here, he’ll be there then,” Ian retorted.

“I – What? No, that’s not what I meant,” Mickey said, panicking. “He’s not – shit. Ian. Help me out there, I’m drowning,” he told him. He could see a small smile spreading on Ian’s lips, making his heart hurt. “He will never be like that for me. Never again.”

“You’re sure about that?”

“100% sure,” Mickey confirmed. “I mean, I can’t promise I’m not going to fuck up every once in awhile, I think I’m a masochist like that,” he tried to joke. Ian cracked a smile for real this time. “I love what we were having, Ian. Having each other, being comfortable around the other one. Talking,” he said honestly. He stroked Ian’s cheek with his thumb. “I love hearing you talk. Hell, I love talking to you.”

“You’re a sap, Mick,” Ian blushed lightly.

“I know. Look what you’ve done to me,” he retorted gently. “Come here,” he murmured, lacing his arms around Ian.

“I don’t want to lose you,” Ian said so lowly he barely caught it. “I’m always losing everyone.”

“You’re not losing me,” he reassured him. He pressed him against himself, hiding his face in the crook of Ian’s neck, inhaling deeply. “I’m here, Ian. I’ll always be here.”

They stayed there, still, for few minutes. He could feel Ian’s breathing beginning to get controlled. He wasn’t one to cuddle in bed like they were doing. But for nothing in the world he would move right then. Ian was with him, which was all that mattered.

“Shit,” Ian breathed. He parted from the embrace, making Mickey lie on his back. Placing a hand on his chest, he hovered over him, reaching for the nightstand. Mickey looked at him taking a tissue from the box before blowing his nose. It shouldn’t make him smile to have Ian’s full weight anchoring him there thanks to a single hand. Just like it shouldn’t make him smile to have Ian blowing his nose because of how much he’d cried.

“We’re good, then?” Mickey asked him once he’d thrown the tissue amongst all the others.

Ian looked down at him, saying, “No.” He then proceeded to lie down, half on top of him. He intertwined one of his legs between Mickey’s ones and placed his head at the junction where Mickey’s neck met his shoulder. He flattened one of his hand on Mickey’s chest. “But when will we ever be?” he breathed in his neck.

“Probably never,” Mickey admitted, turning his head to breathe in Ian’s scent.

***

After awhile staying there into each other’s arms, a light knock made Mickey’s head turn towards the bedroom door.

“Can I come in?”

Mickey looked at Ian, who nodded as a response.

“Yeah,” he answered for them both.

Shawn slowly opened the door, smiling genuinely at the sight he had in front of him.

“I’ve made coffee, if you guys want,” he told them.

“Want some?” he asked Ian, shaking him a little. He didn’t want to move if that wasn’t necessary.

“Sure,” Ian said, entangling himself from Mickey. He got out from under the covers and walked towards the dresser. Mickey saw the way Shawn’s eyes never left Ian’s body. That was kind of a sight, though, Ian walking around in boxers.

“Hey,” he said, throwing a pillow at Shawn’s head.

The blond caught it with an evil grin, “Nothing I’ve never seen before.”

“Guys,” Ian sighed, putting sweatpants on.

“He had it coming,” Shawn said jokingly.

“He did too,” Mickey retorted.

“God, I’m surrounded by five year olds,” Ian muttered, leaving the room while putting a t-shirt on.

Mickey stood up from the bed and joined Shawn by the door.

“Things are good?” the blond asked him sincerely.

“As good as they can get for now.”

“Good then,” he nodded before they made their way to the kitchen to join Ian.

***

It felt oddly good to hang out with this Shawn guy. He remembered how nervous Ian had felt at the idea of them meeting, but he kind of liked the guy. He didn’t take anyone’s shit – especially not Ian’s.

They had ended up on Ian’s couch later in that morning. Mickey had sprawled himself on the fabric before anyone could come. Shawn had sat down on the only free spot left – one end of the couch – with his feet on the coffee table.

“Seriously, guys?” Ian had asked, coming back from the bathroom. “Jesus Christ,” he had muttered then before rounding the coffee table. “Move,” he’d said, tapping Mickey’s hip and lying down against him. Mickey had wrapped his free arm around his middle softly. Ian had plopped his feet on Shawn’s lap, and the blond had complained for few minutes before giving up.

“Still with Zoey?” Ian asked, out of nowhere after few minutes of silence. The show on TV wasn’t that interesting.

“Still, yeah,” he confirmed, a lazy smile on his face.

“I don’t know how you can go from this,” Mickey said, patting Ian’s belly, “to a chick.”

“I don’t know neither. I mean, Ian is so perfect,” Shawn said playfully, hand on his heart.

“Shut up,” Mickey frowned, kicking him on the hip. Shawn took a hold of his foot, though, and started tickling him. Mickey squirmed on the couch, holding Ian tighter so that he didn’t fall.

“Jesus, stop bickering you two,” Ian huffed a fake complain. “I’m trying to listen.”

“Like hell you are,” Shawn retorted.

“You don’t even know who this chick is,” Mickey pointed out, whispering in his ear. A small smile spread on Ian’s lips.

“I do,” he said. “She’s the guy’s little sister.”

“No, she’s not,” Shawn intervened. “She’s her girlfriend.”

“She is?” Ian replied, eyes wide. He then looked back towards the TV, “Oh, that explains some stuff then.”

“You’re an idiot,” Mickey muttered in his ear.

“You too,” he replied, grabbing his hand.

“I’m not feeling like a third wheel or anything,” Shawn added.

“Shut up,” Mickey complained once more, and kicked him – once more. He actually liked the other man’s presence.

“Want me to remind you why I came in here?” he told him, raising an eyebrow.

“No thanks,” he replied self-conscious, Ian squirming against him nervously.

“That’s what I thought. Oh, and no need to say that if you hurt him again, I’m gonna have your ass.”

“Shawn,” Ian sighed.

“You know what I’m capable of,” the blond told Ian.

“I know,” he agreed.

Mickey only tightened his hold around Ian.

***

“I was supposed to have lunch with the guys today,” Shawn told them. “I think I should go.”

“The guys?” Ian asked, sitting up.

“Yeah, you know. The ones you hate.”

“Boris will be here?” he asked curiously.

“Who’s Boris?” Mickey asked. Ian had a devilish smile on his lips.

“No, Ian, don’t,” Shawn almost pleaded him in vain.

“Boris is Shawn’s former super straight roommate. That’s obviously why they slept together,” Ian explained.

“You did not,” Mickey said, trying to hide his laughter.

“I hate you both,” Shawn concluded, grabbing his phone from the kitchen counter.

“Come here,” Mickey murmured in Ian’s ear from him to lie back down against him.

“Mickey, you got some missed calls,” Shawn informed him as he put his coat on.

“From whom?” he asked, his eyes never leaving Ian’s face.

“Hm, three from _we-don’t-pronounce-his-name_ and two from Mandy,” he finished it like it was a question.

Ian stilled in his arms at that moment.

“And I think that’s my cue to leave,” Shawn mumbled before effectively leaving the apartment with no further goodbye.

“You wanna take these calls?” Ian asked him, his eyes never leaving Mickey’s. “Maybe he –“

“Not now, Ian,” he cut him off harshly, surprising the redhead. “Not now, please,” he told him softly then. “I can’t – I don’t want to deal with him now. I’ve just got you back.”

“I know,” Ian retorted. “But I thought you didn’t want to choose, hm?” he dared him, an eyebrow raised.

“It’s not choosing to prefer spending time with my boyfriend rather than having other people on the phone, Ian.”

“If you say so.”

“I’m saying so,” he confirmed. “Come here,” he repeated then, arms laced around Ian – his back pressed to his chest. Next, he mumbled in his ear, “I don’t want you to be jealous over this. But I understand. And I don’t want you to hide it whenever it happens, alright?”

“I’m not some jealous, over-protective boyfriend.”

“I know. But I want you to be one sometimes. Sometimes I’m clueless, and these shits happen. I need you to tell me the cut the shit. I need you to show me when I’m about to fuck up. You’re not going to make me do anything, Ian. I just need some warning – anything. Anything to prevent shits from happening.”

“Alright.”

“Alright?”

“Yeah, okay. Fine, or whatever.”

“Thank you.”

“You can answer him whenever you want, just please don’t go see him alone.”

“Fine by me,” Mickey agreed. He then placed a tender kiss on his neck. Then another one. And another one. As he did so, he gently stroked Ian’s belly. There wasn’t any other place on Earth where he wanted to be right now. He had Ian, that was all that mattered. Even if in the back of his mind, he was wondered why Jay and his sister had called him, it didn’t matter that much.

“I don’t want you to go on trips like these without me,” Ian mumbled.

“What?” he shifted, propping his chin on Ian’s shoulder. The redhead shifted underneath him to lie on his back.

“Trips, like the Christmas one. If you’re leaving with Mandy, okay, whatever, she’s your sister. But if it’s with other people, I want to be in,” he told him – demanded.

“Alright. I got no problems with that,” he responded honestly. “Can I demand stuff as well or is it a one-way thing?”

“I’m not the one fucking up,” Ian pointed out.

“I know,” he sighed. “But to prevent shits happening?” he tried.

“Depends, go on.”

“I want your new, future, co-workers to know you’re taken.”

“I didn’t plan on hiding it, but sure, whatever.”

“I want to meet them if there are dinners, or parties or whatever these people are into. I don’t want to be excluded.”

“You won’t be,” he replied, placing his hand on his cheek. He could feel the roughness of his stubble under Ian’s fingertips. “Can I request something else?”

“Sure.”

“Try to find a job having a day-time schedule. I don’t –“

“That’s what I’m planning on doing,” Mickey reassured him. “I don’t want to spend my time barely seeing you, I don’t want you to work with like three hours of proper sleep.”

“I can’t sleep without you,” Ian agreed.

“I know,” he said, placing his hand flat against his chest. “It’s hard to sleep without you for me as well.”

“We’re pathetic,” Ian mumbled.

“You know what’s pathetic?”

“Hm.”

“The way I turned red because of the vibrator in the bathroom sink.”

“So what?”

“Shawn saw it,” he deadpanned. He saw the grin threatening to split Ian’s face. The redhead gave in too quickly, laughing loudly. It felt so good to hear him laugh, even if he was mocking him. “Stop laughing,” he said nonetheless, slapping his chest.

“He’s not a kid, he knows what a dildo is,” Ian managed to say, with some difficulty.

“I know,” he retorted. “But he also assumed, I think, that this thing went up my ass. And _that_ is embarrassing.”

“This thing went up your ass.”

“Well, not that time,” he told him, raising his eyebrows high on his forehead.

“Hm, you’re probably right, yeah,” Ian smiled easily at him.

“You know I am.”

“Okay, yes. You’re right,” Ian concealed, closing his eyes. After a minute of silence, Mickey plopped his chin on Ian’s chest, watching him intently. He truly loved the man. Out of the blue, Ian said, “I want to trust you.”

“But you can’t,” he finished for him. “I get it, Ian. Don’t worry.”

“Okay,” he whispered.

***

“Want me to order something for lunch?” Mickey asked to an Ian snuggled under the covers on the couch.

“Not hungry.”

“This wasn’t my question; Want me to order something?” he insisted. The redhead hadn’t eaten since the night before. He had gotten away with taking his medication without eating anything, he wasn’t about to let him not eat until dinner or worse – the next day’s breakfast.

“Nurse Mickey is back,” he mumbled.

“Boyfriend Mickey is back,” he corrected him. He went back to the couch and sat by Ian’s hip. Running his fingers though the red hair, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from him. “You need to eat.”

“I know,” he mumbled. “I’m just not feeling it.”

“Feeling sick?” he worried his lip between his teeth.

“It’s in my head.” Mickey’s mouth twitched. He hated hearing this.

“I can do something about it?” he asked, self-conscious about his lack of knowledge on mental disorders.

“I’m supposed to not fuck up my routine when the lows hit harder than usual,” he explained.

“But that something you’ve already done, right?” he squinted his eyes at him.

“Don’t be mad.”

“I’m not mad,” he told him. “I’ve got no reasons to be mad.”

“Lip used to get mad when I felt low. I think he was blaming himself.”

“Well, I’m not your brother – who seems like a dickhead by the way.” It brought a small smile on Ian’s lips. “It’s not your fault, Ian. But it will be if you don’t eat.”

“You’re saying this like eating is going to save me or something.”

“Maybe it will, who knows?” Mickey joked.

“This isn’t even remotely funny,” Ian told him, the smile not disappearing.

“Who said I was funny?” He asked, quirking an eyebrow. “Come on, tough guy,” he said, slapping his stomach. “Where do I order?”

“Chinese?”

“Chinese it is, then,” Mickey agreed. He stood up from the couch and made a beeline towards his phone. There was another two missed calls from Mandy. He frowned but decided to order first before dealing with her.

***

“You mind if I call Mandy before the delivery guy shows up?”

“Go ahead.”

He went to his missed calls and pressed the calling button. It took few rings for his sister to answer.

“Oh, for Christ’s sake, you’re finally calling! Where are you? Where is Ian? Are you okay? –”

“Whoa, slow down with the twenty questions,” he immediately stopped her. She let out a heavy sigh, probably collecting her thoughts. “Okay, so I’m at Ian’s, with Ian. What do you want?”

“How are you? How he is?”

“We’re good, for now. Mands, it’s cool.”

“Really?”

“Don’t sound so surprised, I’m a catch,” he joked.

“You’re not,” Ian yelled from his spot on the couch. Mickey, standing behind the counter, flipped him off.

“You’re sure everything’s alright?”

“Yeah, it’s good, Mandy. Don’t worry, I’ve got it.”

“Okay,” she finally seemed to believe him. “Can I talk to you about _him_ then?”

“Ah, that was the actual reason why you called, hm?”

“It’s not like that, Mick,” she let out.

“Whatever, what does he want?” He didn’t miss the way Ian was staring at him.

“You could ask him yourself. He’s locked up in my bathroom with a bottle of vodka.”

“What? Why?” he frowned.

“Rami dumped him after you left last night.”

“That’s not my problem.”

“Mickey –“

“No!” he interrupted. “I’m finally sorting my shit out. He’ll have to wait. He’s not my main priority right now.”

“He’s still your friend, Mick.”

“I know. But my _boy_ friend needs me. He comes first.”

“Okay, Mick. I get it,” she sighed.

“That’s all you wanted?”

“I guess, yeah.”

“Alright. Thanks for letting me know.”

“Yeah, sure. Bye.”

Mickey stayed in the kitchen for a minute, staring at his phone. He deleted the missed calls before putting the device back on the counter.

“It was about him, right?” Ian asked. Mickey had to take a deep breath in. They were doing this. No lies, no subtle ways of telling things. Being honest.

“Yes. Rami broke up with him last night,” he said, making his way towards him.

“He had it coming,” Ian replied.

“Yeah, he did,” he agreed. Mickey was just glad he was the one breaking the news of being dumped, but to be honest, Jay had lied more. Jay had hidden things.

“How is he taking it?” Ian surprised him by saying these words.

“How do you think? He thought he was in love with the guy.”

“I assume he’s taking it pretty badly then.”

“Yeah. Plus they work together.”

“The worst.”

“The worst,” Mickey confirmed.

***

“So, here we go,” Mickey said, plastering the boxes over the coffee table. Ian had sat up, and he was actually glad to hear his stomach grumbling at the smell of food. He checked what was written on the boxes to separate them on the table. “Shrimp rolls and Lo Mein for you,” he mindlessly said, pushing the said dishes towards Ian. “Fried rice and chicken egg rolls for me.”

“What’s in there?” Ian asked, pointing at the remaining boxes in the plastic bag.

“Vegetable egg rolls, if we’re still hungry.”

“And?” Ian insisted, looking intently at the bag – at the other box in there.

“Fortune cookies,” he said as if it was nothing, opening the fried rice container and overwhelming himself with the scent escaping it.

Mickey heard the laughter trying to escape Ian’s throat, but when he looked over at him, the other man put his hands up in mock surrender.

“Alright, eat your food,” Mickey said with a smile threatening to appear on his lips. He honestly didn’t care if Ian was mocking him, seeing him happy was all he ever wanted.

They ate in silence for a couple of minutes. Mickey eyed Ian engulfing his food as if he hadn’t eaten in days. He frankly loved the sight of it.

“Stop watching me,” the redhead grumbled, mouth full.

“You got sauce on your lips,” Mickey shrugged, pretending that was the reason why he was staring.

“Right. And you’re gonna kiss it away like in some rom com?” he teased him. “I thought you established earlier that we weren’t in a rom com.”

“We’re not,” Mickey agreed. “Can I try it out?”

“What? This?” Ian shook the box filled with noodles. Mickey nodded. “Sure,” he agreed, handing him the box. In the meantime, Ian bent over to reach the table. With one hand on the coffee table, steadying him, he investigated as to what to eat next.

Lo Mein was definitely not Mickey’s thing, he made a face as he swallowed his bite. He was about to give it back to Ian and he saw the redhead reaching for his egg rolls.

“Hey, those are mine,” he complained, automatically.

“Fight me,” Ian replied between bites, unimpressed.

“Alright,” he scoffed, putting the container down on the table. He surged forward to tackle Ian against the other end of the couch, managing to take what was left of the egg roll from his hand. Ian had a grin on his face. Instead of eating it, Mickey placed the egg roll carefully down on the coffee table. He closed the distance between them, lips inches apart. “Your Lo Mein shit is disgusting,” he told him.

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhm hm,” he only hummed as a response. He leaned forward, slowly, before capturing Ian’s lips. It felt so natural to kiss him. He didn’t think he could ever get enough of it. These lips and the little noises Ian always made. The way he breathed through his nose and the fact that he could actually feel it. The way Ian’s hands were always gentle on him, stroking him, no matter how passionate their kisses could be. Except this time. This time Ian’s hands were still on his shoulder, as if he wanted to push him away but didn’t have the heart to do it. So Mickey parted from the kiss, not wanting for it to be too much. “Your lips taste like soy sauce,” he muttered, trying to break the spell surrounding them.

“That was predictable,” Ian muttered back.

“I thought it would taste better on your lips,” he told him. A slight blush crept up on Ian’s cheeks making him look down.

“You’re an idiot,” he only said.

“I am,” he agreed, moving in sync with Ian as they sat up. “Here,” he said, pushing the chicken egg rolls towards Ian. He approached the box of vegetable ones towards himself to compensate.

“Thanks,” Ian only said, looking at him meaningfully. If small attentions like these were his only way back to Ian’s heart, he could definitely do it. It wasn’t like these small caring attentions weren’t making him actually happier than Ian in the end.

***

“Fortune cookies are a fucking joke, though,” Ian mumbled. He threw his on the coffee table, keeping the saying in hand. They had shifted from their spot, but still on the couch. Each man was at their end of the couch, legs entangled. Small touches like these, meaningless touches, that was what Mickey lived for in the end.

“What’s yours saying?”

“ _’You already know the answer to the questions lingering inside your head.’_ Whatever that means,” he grumbled.

“What are you thinking about then?” Mickey asked. He didn’t believe in these things, just like the horoscope stuffs Mandy always read when she was younger. It was only a way to interpreting things. One always found a way to understand these words the way they wanted.

“I’m wondering why the hell do I give up so easily when it comes to you,” Ian surprised him with these words, this honesty.

“But you already know the answer apparently,” Mickey retorted, not trying to appear hurt – even though he was.

“Yeah. That’s because I’m fucking head over heels over you,” he huffed.

“Is that a bad thing?”

“It is, in a way,” Ian admitted, mouth twitching. “You could treat me like shit on purpose and I’ll still have issues to leave you.”

“I’m not doing it on purpose,” Mickey instantly argued.

“I know. That’s what I said,” Ian told him. “Come on, what’s yours saying?” he asked, kicking lightly as Mickey’s ass.

“ _’Love can last a lifetime, if you want it to,’_ ” he snorted.

“That’s true, though,” Ian argued, tilting his head.

“Yeah,” he agreed, his eyes never leaving Ian. Ian noticed.

“You’re such a sap,” he told him, standing up on his knees. He suddenly took his t-shirt off.

“What are you doing?” Mickey felt awkward.

“Take it off,” Ian motioned for his t-shirt.

“Ian, I don’t think it’s –“

“Take it off,” Ian insisted. Mickey reluctantly did, eyes never leaving Ian’s. Once they were both shirtless, Ian grabbed the cover from the back of the couch and lied between Mickey’s sprawled legs.

He didn’t want to have sex right now. Don’t mind him, he was always up for having sex. But the situation they were currently in wasn’t one where sex was the brightest idea. He didn’t want them to have unspoken conversations as they sucked each other off. He didn’t want them to say what they were thinking thanks to one was pounding into the other one. This shouldn’t be it.

But Ian surprised him once again. He pressed his bare chest against his own, hiding his face in the crook of his neck. He could feel the furnace coming off Ian’s chest. Absentmindedly, his hands found their way to Ian’s back to bring him closer.

Ian sighed contently. “That’s just what I wanted,” he breathed out.

Mickey couldn’t complain, no, he wouldn’t. This was perfect.

***

The end of the day rolled by without Mickey noticing. Ever since he had lost his job, he had found himself spending his days lazily sprawled on Ian’s couch. He knew nothing interesting was on TV, but he still convinced himself the next day would be better. He’d had a shitty karma, being fired around Christmas time. He was bored of all these love story centered on Christmas on TV. They were all the same. They were all with the chick falling in love with the guy. The only things changing were the names, the cities and the props – kids being around, maybe a dog?

When Ian was by his side, he didn’t mind much of the crap on TV. Without really meaning to, his focus was on the way Ian breathed, the way Ian cursed at the movie when shitty lines were uttered. He only cared about the way Ian reached unconsciously for him, as if it was normal for them to be here. It was as if last night had only been a nightmare, but not real in the end.

He really hoped it had been so.

But it wasn’t. He knew it.

“Tell him to come over,” Ian mumbled.

“Who?”

“Jay.”

“Ian –“

“He only has you, right? I mean, no offense to your brother-in-law, but he kinda seems like a shithead. He reminded me of Lip. He and Mandy aren’t close, right? And he's just got dumped.”

“I’m not gonna invite him in your home, Ian. Are you out of your mind?”

“I prefer for you to invite him here, rather than going somewhere with him or whatever,” he told him frankly. Mickey didn’t answer, though. There was no real logic behind Ian’s words. “He can’t talk behind my back if I’m here,” Ian explained. “He can’t be an asshole, or else, I’ll be one to him as well. He starts to glare at me or to make fucking innuendos as to what happened when the two of you were together and I’ll slap him.”

“Slap him?” Mickey snorted.

“Bitch slap. That’s what he deserves for acting this way last night,” Ian spat. Mickey could feel his body tensing against him. That wasn’t such a good idea. “If I didn’t hate him like this, I’d pity him,” he mumbled. “Come on, tell him to come,” Ian nudged at his shoulder. “Gonna take a shower in the meantime.”

“Alright,” Mickey agreed, not knowing why.

“And you put that shirt back on,” Ian shouted from the bathroom, making him smile.

[5:21 PM] Mickey Milkovich: Come over?

[5:24 PM] Jay Asher: Thank you.

[5:29 PM] Jay Asher: I’m on my way.

***

[5:48 PM] Jay Asher: Open up, I’m down there.

[5:50 PM] Mickey Milkovich: I’m at Ian’s. Buzzing you in.

[5:52 PM] Jay Asher: I should probably go then.

[5:53 PM] Mickey Milkovich: No. Come in.

***

“Jesus, you reek,” Mickey said as he opened the door, wrinkling his nose at the strong smell of alcohol.

“Yeah, hi,” the other man mumbled.

“You bathed in what? Vodka according to Mandy?”

“Have the right to,” he said, still as lowly. Mickey then motioned for him to enter the apartment, closing the door behind him.

“It feels like a déjà-vu,” Jay said, eyeing the room.

“I know, right?” Mickey snorted lightly despite himself. Their apartments were really alike.

“Oh, hi,” Jay suddenly said, probably spotting Ian at the counter, papers scattered in front of him. “I didn’t know. I mean, Mickey only told me he was here like two minutes ago. I can leave,” he rambled.

Ian sighed heavily, annoyance tainting his features before he suppressed it. “I told him you could come over,” he said. “You start with the shit you did last night and you’ll regret messing with me.”

“I’m sorry,” Jay said. He heard the sincerity in his voice. It was rare for Jay to act this way. The younger man carefully approached Ian, placed one of his hand on the counter. “I’m truly sorry for what I did to you, Ian. I mean, you stole my best friend.”

“This isn’t playground,” Ian retorted, but Mickey noticed how he drank the words Jay uttered.

“I know. I hated you at first, you know? You were acting like a shithead towards Mickey and all. And then, I found myself liking you because you made my best friend happy. And all of a sudden, I’m not seeing my best friend anymore. He’s always too busy with his new found boyfriend and his work. I resented you for stealing him away from me.”

“He didn’t –“ Mickey tried to intervene.

“He did. Not on purpose. Just like you did as well, disappearing from the surface of the Earth. I missed you, Mickey. And last night… Last night, that was too much.” He then turned back around to look at Ian. “You were acting like I was the dark cloud over your life. I thought, _I can’t see my best friend anymore and I’m the villain in this? How unfair is that_? It is unfair. You can’t ask me to not want to be part of Mickey’s life –“

“I’m not asking you to,” Ian said.

“But you’re acting like it,” he retorted. “I mean, Christ. I’ve lost a man I’m thinking I’m in love with because of all that,” he said throwing his hands in the air. When both Mickey and Ian frowned at him, he quickly corrected himself. “Rami. I’m talking about Rami here. I think he couldn’t handle it. All that. Whatever it was.”

“You deserved it,” Ian told him. Mickey wanted to tell him to be nicer to Jay, at least about it. He couldn’t bring himself to. He knew Ian was right.

“I know,” Jay nodded. “He deserves better and we’re too different anyways.”

“Different?” Mickey wondered out loud.

“He’s older than you are, Mickey. And I’m still me. I’m not ready for whatever he wanted us to be.”

As if on cue, Ian’s phone got off next to them.

“It’s Shawn,” he only said before picking up. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Shawn, the friend/ex-fuck buddy?” Jay asked.

“Yeah, there’s Jay as well,” Ian said into the phone. He eyed the both of them before escaping to the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

“Yeah, Shawn,” Mickey confirmed.

 

* * *

 

“Hey, what’s up?” he said into the phone, relieved to escape Jay.

“Hey,” Shawn greeted him back. The younger man around Ian talked. “Mickey still here?”

“Yeah, there’s Jay as well,” he told him.

“Jay? What the fuck is he doing here? Want me to come over?” Shawn immediately said.

“That’s okay,” he only replied, closing the door behind him. “He even apologized and all.”

“What the fuck apologies mean with everything you’ve been through because of that shithead?”

“That’s better than nothing.”

“Ian, you okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just – weird. I don’t know. It feels like last night was just a bad dream. That I’m still living a dream. How fucked up is that?”

“Pretty fucked up,” Shawn agreed. “You’ll tell me if something’s up or whatever, hm?”

“Yes, sure. Don’t worry.”

“I don’t want Mickey to call me ever again, panicking like he was.”

“I know. Sorry again for this morning.”

“Don’t apologize for this, man. I get it.”

“Thanks again, for coming over, you know,” Ian said.

“What are friends for, hm?” The blond replied. “No, but really, Ian. You know I’m here for you.”

“I know.”

“And Mickey isn’t that bad after all.”

“He’s not,” Ian agreed.

“It’s weird, though. He seems like, so grumpy, so negative but he can blush harder than a high school girl caught staring at her crush.”

“The dildo?” Ian laughed.

“Yeah. And come on, Ian. Leaving it in the bathroom sink? Really?”

“We were pretty busy,” he retorted, smiling.

“I bet you were, yeah. That was a new one, right?”

“What?”

“The dildo. I don’t remember you having many toys.”

“We’re not having this conversation, dude,” Ian warned him.

“Come on,” Shawn laughed. “I can give you advice, you know?”

“No.”

“Like the green –“

“No!” And Shawn erupted with a fit of laughter. Ian couldn’t stop himself from smiling anyways. “I threw it away, you know?”

“Oh come on, seriously? The green butt plug is gone?”

“It is, yeah.”

“Hm, weird explaining your boyfriend why you don’t want to use this toy on him, right?”

“Who said it would have been for him anyways?” Ian said playfully.

“No fucking way! He’s got you whipped, man. Worse than I thought.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Why did you call anyways?”

“Oh, yeah right.”

“Oh, yeah right,” Ian mimicked him.

“So, I saw Boris today.”

“No. No, no, no! Shawn, don’t tell me you –“

“Let me fucking finish, first.”

“Alright.”

“So, we were with the guys and that asshole of Julian brought up the NYE’s party at my place in few days, right? And I had carefully not told Boris I was organizing one, so that I didn’t have to invite him. Whatever, the asshole obviously didn’t have anything planned so he’s coming. I couldn’t tell him, ‘Oh no, I didn’t want you to come after I made the mistake to sleep with you’.”

“He remember that, though?”

“Yeah,” Shawn sighed. “When we left and took me apart telling me that that night was amazing and all. I told him I have Zoey, but he didn’t seem to care.”

“So what? You’re gonna cheat on Zoey with this guy?” When Shawn didn’t answer, Ian sighed. “Come on, man. You’re better than this. It’s either you stay with her or you fool around. Not both.”

“Why can’t I have both?” Shawn whined.

“Because that’s called polygamy and not everyone is into that. That ends up fucking up things in the end anyways.”

“Yeah,” he sighed, agreeing. “You’re still coming to the party, right?”

“I’ll see if I’m up for it.”

“Come on, you know you are. And now that I’ve met Mickey properly, you can’t give any more excuse about him not coming.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“Come on, go back there and keep an eye on this young thing eyeing your boyfriend.”

“I think he left,” Ian mindlessly said. “I think I’ve heard the door.”

“Go back to your boyfriend then. Make more memories.”

“Urgh, that’s so cheesy coming from you, Shawn.”

“I know. That’s what dating a girl does to me.”

“Whatever, you chose it,” Ian told him.

“I know.”

***

The next few days weren’t that bad. Ian had honestly thought Mickey would act hyper carefully with him, doing everything he wished – well, not being himself properly. He both hated and loved the idea of someone acting like this towards him. But he knew it would be bound to end at some point. Instead then, they spent these days together. Mickey was still looking for a job, so on afternoons where Ian looked through the papers the company had given him to familiarize himself with the world of insurance companies, Mickey was on his laptop.

It felt easily domestic, back to before. Before the shits happened.

He wanted to hate Mickey, to hate Jay. He wanted to make Mickey suffer, to make him realize how painful being with him could be sometimes. But he simply couldn’t. The looks Mickey had given him that day as he’d apologized over and over again. They were so meaningful.

Ian was used to people, well, using him. Married men saying they would leave their partners, guys pretending to be single when they were not. He was used to being lied to. Mickey wasn’t lying to him. He could see right through him. He could see the look in his eyes when he caught him staring at him. Like the dark haired man had said, he sucked at relationships. But he didn’t suck at love.

Even at night, when he thought Ian was sleeping and that his arms were wrapped tightly around his freckled waist, he could him muttering words. These words were probably not meant to be heard, so he didn’t say a thing. Mickey probably noticed the way his heart started pounding in his chest as he murmured ‘I love you’, ‘You’re perfect,’ or ‘I’m lucky to have you’. These words couldn’t _not_ be sincere, he knew that.

Ever since that day, Nurse Mickey had been back. Not having to get up to go to work, he absolutely didn’t mind not getting up to take his medication. Without any alarm, Mickey would be up and about – filling a glass with water and bringing him his medication. He hated to think that, but he could get used to this. He could get used to depend on someone else that much. It scared him. But it felt so good.

“What are you thinking about?” Mickey asked, resting his head against his upper-waist. The dark hair stuck against his damp skin. He realized Mickey must have been playing with his fingers for a moment now.

“You,” he said frankly. “Us.”

Mickey shifted in the bathtub to look at him in the eye – probably trying to catch the expression on his face. It broke his heart to see the broken look on Mickey’s face, as if Ian was ready to tell him to fuck off of his apartment, of his life. No, he didn’t want that.

“What about us?” he asked, unsure.

“You should think about giving your notice. For your apartment.”

“I’m thinking about it,” he replied, moving back to his former position. He absentmindedly grabbed Ian’s hand again to keep on playing with his fingers. “But, it might be too soon. Maybe I should keep it for awhile, no?”

“If you want, yeah.”

“I think it’s probably better that way, yeah,” Mickey said, almost to himself. “This would be rushing things.”

“Our whole relationship is rushed,” Ian told him.

“If it’s why I’m right here right now with you in a bathtub filled with hot water, I clearly don’t mind.”

“Me neither.”

***

When Ian had told Mickey about Shawn’s party, the dark haired man had been over the moon at the thought of being included in Ian’s world – despite it being not much of his world. Still, Ian knew most of the people Shawn had invited over to his place for New Year’s Eve. His friends from college were there, along with their girlfriends of the moment – apart from Boris, surprisingly enough. Alisha was there as well, bringing with her some of hers and Zoey’s friends. He didn’t know them, had only seen them once but they didn’t seem that bad.

The night was good, only Shawn and Mickey knew about what had happened and they didn’t act as if it should be stopping them from having fun. It shouldn’t. Ian had been nursing his beer, listening to a conversation between Julian and Boris, trying to find anything remotely interesting in these guys, when Zoey snatched him away from them.

“They’re boring,” she yelled in his ears. The music was so loud that he doubted anyone could’ve heard her apart from him.

“I know,” he replied.

“I don’t see what Shawn sees in them.”

“Me neither.”

“Well, alright, that Boris guy is pretty hot, but still.” If only she knew, Ian thought. He trusted Shawn to not fuck up with that.

“Come dance with us.”

And with that, Ian found himself sandwiched between Alisha and Zoey as they put on a show – making every straight guy in the room envying Ian.

The redhead could see Mickey watching them, an eyebrow raised playfully. Ian mirrored his expression. He then put his hands on Alisha’s hips, daring him to do something. He knew it was harmless, but he liked to play with Mickey like this.

Mickey licked his lips, eyes still on him for a minute. From where Ian stood, he could see him stroking the edge of with whiskey tumbler. It was probably involuntary, but it turned him on a bit. He loved when Mickey watched him that way.

He slid one of his hand towards Alisha’s small back. The girls were probably aware of what he was doing, if the laughter escaping their throats were any sign.

That did it for Mickey. He saw him putting his glass on the counter and making his way towards them.

“Alright, ladies,” he said. “Time’s up. This guy’s mine. Go find another one,” he added, putting his arms on either side of Ian’s body to push the girls away. They didn’t mind, though.

“Yours?” Ian raised an eyebrow, grabbing him by the collar of his dress shirt.

“Yup,” he said, placing his hands on his hips. “You’re all mine,” he told him. Ian could smell the alcohol on his breath, but he knew the words were sincere.

He didn’t mind being his. He probably would never mind. So he showed him. He approached him and kissed him deeply – proving him how right he was.

***

It was hours after, the New Year having begun. Mickey had made them retreat in Shawn’s guest room. Ian was sitting up against the headboard of the bed, Mickey straddling his lap. The older man peppered kisses on his neck playfully – nothing leading further.

“I like these guys,” he muttered against his skin. “They’re fun,” he said, sitting up to look at him.

“Yeah,” Ian admitted. Shawn’s boring friends were pretty decent once drunk. “Do you know where Shawn fucked off to, though?”

“You didn’t see?” Mickey smirked.

“See what?”

“Hm, him disappearing in his bedroom with that Russian guy, Boris.”

“Oh no, he didn’t. You didn’t stop him?” Ian said, pushing Mickey was from him as he stood up.

“Hey, come back,” he laughed.

“No, he’s cheating on her while she’s here? He’s a fucking idiot,” he rambled. Mickey grabbed his wrist and tugged him back towards the bed.

“Have you seen Zoey around? No. You know why? Because she was the one leading the guys towards the bedroom,” Mickey explained.

“What – Why? No,” understanding drew on Ian’s face. “They’re –“ he only said, pointing vaguely towards where Shawn’s bedroom stood.

“I can’t prove shit, but I assume they’re having fun,” Mickey told him.

“Promise me we’ll never do this,” Ian muttered, shifting on top of him. He propped himself on his forearms, framing Mickey’s face with them.

“I don’t want to share you, Ian. Never.”

“Good. Me neither.”

“Alright then,” Mickey kept on, making Ian laugh. He narrowed the distance between them and kissed his lips. He was definitely head over heels over him.

They had barely getting started, getting hot and heavy knowing they couldn’t do anything here. At least for Shawn’s sake, they couldn’t have sex here. Ian had his groin pressed against Mickey’s thigh, his pants getting too tight. Mickey was panting, mouth agape as Ian nibbled gently at his earlobe.

“I don’t think I excite you that much,” Mickey suddenly said.

“What?” Ian frowned, not stopping his ministrations.

“Your phone’s vibrating against my dick, man,” he breathed. Ian laughed throatily against his neck, forehead damp with sweat. “Come on,” Mickey huffed as he plunged his hand in his pants’ pocket. He heard him moan at the feeling, probably stroking himself without meaning to.

Ian didn’t look at him as he retrieved the phone.

“You should look at this,” Mickey breathed.

“Whoever it is, it’s not important,” Ian husked in his ear, but Mickey put the phone towards his face anyways. Ian grumbled a complaint but grabbed the phone nonetheless. He braced himself over Mickey. He squinted his eyes at the screen, too bright for the darkness in which the room was filled.

[3:02 AM] Carl Gallagher: Happy New Year, fuckhead. You suck. I miss you.

“Shit,” he breathed.

“Yeah,” Mickey agreed. “Maybe this year’s gonna be better than last year,” he told him, stroking his hair gently.

“It will,” Ian promised himself, locking his phone as he went back to kissing Mickey. This year would be better, yes. He had a boyfriend he loved and who cared about him. He had friends surrounding him. He had his sister trusting him. He had his brother coming back to him. This year was already better than expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **** THE END ****


	20. Epilogue: 365+ part one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SURPRISE SURPRISE! I'm making a two-part epilogue. Simple reason, this is nearly 9k long and there's only about 130 days in here.  
> I'll try updating/concluding this within the next two weeks, but I'm making absolutely zero promise.

Despite the thick and supposedly warm blanket, Mickey inched closer to his boyfriend’s warmth. He perked a single eye open to overlook Ian’s bare back, only to see they still have few minutes before Ian’s alarm would go off. They had gotten used to put an alarm back on, now that they would have to get up around the same time and leave for work at 10 minutes apart.

Ian was soundly sleeping on his front, face pressed against the pillow – probably drooling a bit. Mickey ran lightly his fingertips against his back, loving the way the hairs rose at the contact. Smiling to himself, he drew closer to his boyfriend and lied half on top of him. Despite the cold of the air, Ian always remained a furnace in bed. Mickey didn’t mind the least. Going through a winter like theirs, it was pretty cozy to have his own heater at home – in bed. Tangling his leg between Ian’s, he put his head to Ian’s back – his ear against his skin.

He fell back asleep to the sound of Ian’s heart beating steadily.

***

The sound of the alarm startled him. He must have had gone back to a deeper sleep than expected. Grumbling, Ian pushed him away from his back but didn’t lose time to throw an arm around him to pull him closer to his chest nonetheless.

“Stay in bed,” Ian sleepily murmured.

“Work,” Mickey only said, leaning against him even more despite his will to get up.

“You only start at 9 because of the snow,” the redhead mumbled, his grip tightening.

“But you start at 8:30 and you told your brother you’d go have a coffee with him beforehand.”

It was only the fourth time Ian and Carl would see each other again. After Carl had taken the second step at the start of the New Year, they had seen each other at the diner where Debbie worked. All through January, it had been pretty hard for Ian to have some free time. He had complained enough time to Mickey for his boyfriend to know the redhead wouldn’t pass an opportunity to reconnect with his brother for few more minutes of sleep.

“It’s only 6:30,” Ian complained, still. Mickey turned in the embrace, facing him. The room was still barely lighten, only the streetlamps helping to make out what was happening in the room. Mickey leaned in and pressed his lips against Ian’s softly. “Is that supposed to convince me to leave the bed?”

“No,” Mickey told him. Their mouths were only inches away. “This is ‘good morning’.”

“Oh, right. Good morning,” Ian said before pecking his lips once more.

“Now go make me breakfast, I have a long day today,” he told him, or more like asked him. Ian had started a lazy habit: the one of making Mickey cook every time. He’d used the excuse of teaching him how to cook actually – how to make something else that wasn’t eggs or ending up being a mess to clean up afterwards. But now, it was so easy for Ian to stay lazily in bed while Mickey was the one starting breakfast. Just like when Ian would get home late, and didn’t have the heart to order anything – under the pretext of unhealthy food, too many times a week. So basically, Mickey was the one cooking. And sometimes, just like this morning, he didn’t want to. He wanted to be taken care of. He wanted Ian to be the housewife for once. Or he could use the fact that Valentine’s Day was approaching and that the redhead could at least do that.

Ian exaggerated a pout, drawing his bottom lip out – quivering. Mickey kissed that lip.

“Breakfast.”

Ian looked at him intently in the eyes before ruffling his hair. “Waffles okay?”

“Waffles’ great,” he smiled genuinely.

“Gimme twenty then,” the redhead said, getting up. As soon as his feet touched the floor, Mickey could see the shiver running up Ian’s back. The redhead hurried to the dresser, throwing on his old bathrobe, slipping on slippers at the same time. “You’re gonna stay in bed?”

Mickey pondered. The bed was still warm towards where Ian had been sleeping, but he knew that without the redhead with him, there was no particular reason for him to stay there.

“Nah, gonna take a burning hot shower,” he said, standing up as well. He nearly ran towards the bathroom to turn the heater on there. He heard Ian’s morning giggles behind him.

Mornings were good.

***

His hair was still damp as he made his way towards the bedroom. He threw on a pair of jeans, long sleeves and a thick sweater. The smell of waffles lingered all through the apartment. Going to the kitchen, Ian welcomed him with a plate of waffle, a mug of hot coffee already waiting for him on the counter.

“Syrup?”

“Yes, please,” he smiled at him. Ian looked through the cupboards and handed the bottle to his boyfriend.

“You’re free for lunch today?”

“Don’t think so. We’re late on the Easter stocking already so we need to finish that before the end of the week.”

“Meaning you might work on Saturday?”

“I might, yeah,” he confirmed. Ian turned off the waffle iron. He grabbed a plate for himself and settled next to his boyfriend at the counter. “So I don’t think we’ll have a proper lunch break today, or even tomorrow.”

“Want me to swing by to bring you lunch?” Ian offered, nudging Mickey’s knee. Mickey felt the syrup on his lips. He leaned forward, catching Ian by surprise as he kissed below his ear.

“It’s okay. I think we’ll just buy some sandwiches,” he muttered against his neck.

Ian turned his head, thumb sweeping Mickey’s lips. “Alright. Eat then,” he told him.

Mickey had found a job at a warehouse about four weeks before. His job was pretty simple, yet demanding. He stocked, restocked, prepared the deliveries for some store chain. He felt useful, coming home content to have done something of his day. His coworkers were pretty nice guys – and girls. They didn’t take any shit, and Mickey liked that about them. Even having worked there only for weeks, he enjoyed their presence. Only a couple of them knew of Ian. He wasn’t hiding his personal life or his sexuality. He just didn’t feel like sharing something so personal with people he barely knew. Yet, Jenny and Lee had seen Ian that one day when the redhead had come by to get lunch with his boyfriend. Mickey had made the presentations and Jenny had been clearly jealous of the fact that Ian wasn’t simply Mickey’s best friend.

“At what time do you have to meet Carl?”

“We said eight at the café near work.” Mickey checked his watch, they still had time. Mickey would clean up while Ian got ready. They would have some time to themselves, probably. Mickey would probably have time to corner him in the bathroom after his shower. He would have Ian still wet from his shower, ready to jump into his fitting shirt and tight dark pants. He would go down on his knees while Ian gripped at the sink – trying to steady himself. Ian would go to work with a sated look on his face, glowing from the pleasure Mickey had given him.

“Go take your shower then,” he told him, quirking an eyebrow. Ian might have followed his train of thoughts, if the grin plastered on his face was any sign. He kissed Mickey hard on the lips before downing his glass of juice.

Mickey quickly finished his breakfast before cleaning up the kitchen. As he moved around, he stole another waffle – taking bites from it from time to time.

Suddenly, someone was pounding on the front door. Frowning, he glanced at his watch. 7:17 AM. Who the hell could come by that early? The pounding kept on, loud enough to wake up Ian’s floor neighbors.

“Open up, I know you’re awake!” He heard Mandy yelling. He cursed under his breath, knowing his plans for the rest of the morning would go down the drain. He dried his hands against his jeans before going for the door. Under the pounding on the door, he could hear the water still on in the bathroom.

“What the –“ he started saying as he opened the door. He was quickly shut down as Mandy screeched and jumped in his arms – literally. She laced her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. Her feet kicked him – probably involuntarily. “What the hell, Mands?” he asked her as she kept on being too loud for an early morning.

She jumped out of his arms and waved her hand in front of his face. Her face was sporting a grin as bright as the ring that was on her finger.

“He proposed!” she said, her voice still too high to resemble her normal one. “He proposed last night!”

“And you came to tell me,” he simply stated, pretending to not be affected. He was. He was affected. Jeremy finally had the balls to propose his sister. He had almost thought Jeremy had changed his mind, or maybe chickened out of it. It had even crossed his mind that, maybe, he was the reason why Jeremy had belated doing so. After the freak show of a dinner, he had felt guilty about latching at Jeremy. He had hated the man when he hadn’t known him. Yet, he had always liked the man dating his sister.

“I am, shithead,” she surged. She punched him hard on the arm before kicking the front door shut. Her smile never faltered, though.

Seeing her happiness made his heart swell. “Come here,” he simply said before he hugged her tight. He’d missed her. He thought back of the hard days of them living together – just the two of them. Back when they were working hard to pay the rent of shitty places. Back when they only had each other. They had moved on, Mandy before he did.

He felt his neck wet before Mandy hid her face even more.

“Hey,” he simply said. She sniffed loudly. Her eyes were rimmed red.

“I’m happy,” she sobbed, laughing drily. “Mick, I’m happy,” she repeated. “I’m just so fucking happy!”

“That’s good then,” he replied. He knew there was nothing to say to her at that particular moment. There was nothing that could be said to make her snap out of this dream. He didn’t want her to snap out of it anyways.

“You’ll walk me down the aisle,” she told him. He didn’t have time to reply before she started talking again. She made her way towards the couch as she spoke. “You’ll walk me down the aisle, and you’ll stay standing by my side. I don’t care about this bullshit of bridesmaid or whatever – you’ll stay by my side. So you’ll have to wear a good suit, I’ll help you choose.”

“Hm, okay.”

“You want to?”

“To?”

“Do that for me. You don’t have to –“

“Mands. You’re my sister, I will do that for you,” he told her reassuringly. Her eyes were still shiny – but not only from the tears. She was sitting legs crossed on the couch – her back to the kitchen, and so, to the bathroom door.

She was lost in her thoughts, dreaming. Mickey studied her features. There were dark bags under her eyes, but they remained bright with happiness. Her lips seemed to not know how to stop smiling. Her dimples were ever-so-present. The last time he had seen her that happy was the night she’d come home after a date. The man had walked her home, only kissing her goodbye at the door. She’d ranted all night long about this guy she’d met at the diner she worked at. Mickey had fallen asleep, listening to her over-joyed words. And now, he was watching her, still dreaming about this guy she’d met only a couple of years ago.

His eyes were attracted to the body behind her. Ian opened the bathroom door only sporting a towel hung lowly on his hips and a wicked grin on his lips. Mickey’s eyes widen for a quick second before he discreetly shook his head no. Ian’s eyes fell down on Mandy, and Mickey could read the ‘shit’ on his lips.

Mandy frowned at Mickey’s expression before turning around.

“Ian!” She shot up from her seat and jumped in his arms as well. She didn’t seem to mind the other man’s lack of clothes. She started talking Ian’s ears off, and Mickey couldn’t be happier to see his boyfriend listening to every word his sister said.

***

Ian had apologized over and over again before leaving to meet up with his brother. Mickey still had some time before leaving as well, so he didn’t mind spending it with his sister. Mandy didn’t seem to mind disturbing their morning routine. She’d even awed out loud as Ian had kissed his boyfriend goodbye. Mickey had slightly blushed, resting his forehead against Ian’s shoulder before going back to her.

“So, you still have time,” she said.

“Time for what?”

“Well, the wedding will be next summer – to save money etc… So you two still have time to get engaged so that we can have a double wedding,” she beamed. If Mickey had been drinking at that moment, he would’ve choked on it.

“Wedd- what? No. I mean – Mandy!” Mandy’s hysterical laughter filled the room then. She threw her head back, eyes watering.

“Your face,” she managed to say. She couldn’t seem to stop mocking him before imitating his words – pretty well, that said.

“We’ve been together for what, six months or something? Not even!”

“Yeah, but you’ve been living together for like half of it,” she argued.

“We’re not living together,” he told her.

She snorted loudly at that. “Sure you don’t. You just spend money on an apartment you don’t live in.”

“That’s not that,” he sighed.

“What is it, then?” she kicked lightly at his knee. “You two are good together.”

“I know.”

“So why are you spending money on rent, when you could share this apartment with him? He even asked you to move in twice already.” He had. And Mickey had told his sister about it.

“I know, but you know how much I always fuck up.”

“So what? You’re still living here nonetheless.”

His mouth twitched. She was probably right. His own apartment was collecting dust, while Ian’s was collecting memories.

Sensing she was on a wrong subject, she sighed. “Okay, alright,” she said. “Changing subject. Pass game?”

“Pass game?”

“Shithead you remember,” she told him. He did, but the simple idea of playing that, he knew that he would use ‘pass’ more time than not. Their rule was pretty simple: they talked. If the subject wasn’t one they didn’t want to talk about, one would say pass. The other one wouldn’t argue and start another conversation. That was pretty simple, but knowing she wanted to play that, he assumed she was about to talk about things he didn’t want to hear.

“Fine.”

“Alright, so,” she took a deep breathe in. “Jay still feels guilty.” Here it was.

“Guilty?”

“For acting this way. He misses you.”

“I’m sure he did,” he snorted, eyebrows raising. He didn’t have any news from the other man. Ian was more than glad to not have to deal with him, but Mickey kind of missed him as well. He was a bit worried to not know what the younger man was up to. Now, though, he knew the limits. He knew what he could or couldn’t do. So he simply let Jay do his stuff, waiting for him to come back to him. He didn’t want to sort of chase after him, that wasn’t what he was supposed to do.

“He does,” Mandy confirmed him. “He spends too many nights crashing on our couch, not even able to go back to his parents.”

“Able?” He found himself asking.

“Yeah, you know how it is. Breaking up, feeling like shit, doing stupid shit.”

“Such as?”

“I think he discovered every bar in Boystown pretty well.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah, so it’d be cool if you could –“

“Pass!”

“Come on, Mick!”

“You said Pass game, I play along. I don’t want to deal with his break-up when I was that near to be in his position.”

“Okay, alright,” she agreed, throwing her hands in the air. “Things good with Ian, then.”

“They are.”

“So I don’t need to invite him to my wedding, right?”

“You _have_ to,” he frowned.

“See, if I invite him, that means you two won’t be together next year. If I don’t, that means he’ll be your plus-one. You choose.”

“Okay, don’t invite him,” he grumbled.

“Look how cute you are. So in love with –“

“Pass.”

“You’re not funny Mickey!”

“Who said it had to be funny?”

“It’s called ‘game’ for a reason, dipshit.”

“It’s called ‘pass’ for a reason as well, old cunt.”

“Ouch, rude, Mickey,” she faked being hurt by his words. “Alright, I’m onto something then. Work. Nothing to pass on work, right?”

“We’ll see,” he shrugged.

“How’s yours?”

“Pretty good, I guess.”

“Hm,” she squinted her eyes at him. “How’s Ian’s?” Since he didn’t answer right away, a wicked smile grew on her lips. “What’s his name?”

“Whose?”

“The name of the guy you think is hitting on your boyfriend and you want to destroy him but you won’t say a thing to Ian because you don’t want to appear as a jealous over-protective boyfriend,” she said in one breath, so quick so that Mickey couldn’t interrupt.

“There’s no one,” he retorted.

“And I call that bullshit,” she shot back. “I know you, Mick.”

“Alright. David.”

“What did this David do?”

“It’s his boss, early fifties, married.”

“So?”

“So? I told you that already when he started there.”

“Oh,” she said. “You’re jealous because your boyfriend used to bang older married dudes before.”

“Exactly.”

“Just, let me clear that up. How old are you?”

“You know how old I am, Mands.”

“How old are you?” she insisted.

“26.”

“And the guy he banged before you, Shawn.”

“27.”

“Okay, alright. Before Shawn who was it?”

“I don’t know, Mands. I don’t know his whole sexual life.”

“Bullshit, you know it. You just don’t want to share.”

“Fine, there were just one night-stands.”

“And before?” she kept on.

“Before he was in the army, but didn’t bang anyone there,” he said. He then continued, knowing she would ask him nonetheless. “And before that, there was a guy slightly older than him, engaged or some shit. I don’t remember. There was a guy, like his brother-in-law’s father or some shit. And his boss,” he pointed out.

“Okay,” she nodded. “Don’t you see a kind of pattern here?”

“No?”

“He went from the danger to the safest. Fucking with your boss is fun when you’re young and careless, Mick. It is not when you’re nearly 26 with only a small degree that doesn’t prove shit about your abilities.” When Mickey didn’t say more, she sighed heavily. “He’s in love with you,” she said, cupping his cheek.

“Pass.”

“And you’re in love with him.”

“Pass,” he repeated.

“And you two both know how much you love each other.”

“Pass!”

“He’s not going to fuck that up, Mickey.”

“But, what if –“

“Exactly,” she huffed. “It’s only ‘what if’s. You can’t live on ‘what if’s, Mickey. Either stop that useless jealousy, or let him know you don’t like his boss that much.”

“Alright,” he replied. “Alright, I’ll tell him then.”

“See? I can’t have you breaking up right before my wedding.”

“Your wedding is in over a year,” he retorted, getting up from the couch.

“Exactly. Oh, and you two can’t break up before Thanksgiving neither, nor Christmas. No couples should break up by Valentine’s Day or Easter. And my wedding’s anniversary, obviously.”

“So we should never break up, that’s what you’re saying?” he raised an eyebrow at her.

She pretended thinking about it, before eagerly nodding. “Yup, that’s it.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“And you’re so in love,” she cooed.

He definitely was.

 

* * *

* * *

 

It had been a long day for Mickey, Ian knew that much. He’d come home to his boyfriend snuggled on the couch, the sound of the TV barely high enough to make out what the people were saying. He’d gone up to him, caressing his hair gently before kissing him hello.

Ian disliked the fact that whenever his boss needed him to work later than his schedule read, he simply had to. That night, he’d come home at over 7 PM, but some other nights had been worse. Worse being working overtime to the point that he ate dinner with his coworkers instead of his boyfriend and came home to the said boyfriend already asleep. He hated those nights.

Now that they were in bed, after that Ian had made them dinner and had massaged Mickey’s sore back, he finally felt like relaxing. Mickey was softly snoring, mouth agape. He’d caught a cold at the warehouse the week before. Ian didn’t mind. He lied his head on Mickey’s clothed chest, snuggling closer. He would never get enough of Mickey’s scent – especially when it was mixed with his own.

He’d been dropping hints since Valentine’s Day. Hints to make Mickey understand that they were ready to move on – or move in, in Mickey’s case. It made him smile, how oblivious Mickey could be sometimes. Some other times, though, he simply wanted to shake him and tell him bluntly to move in already. Mickey was practically living with him anyways. He didn’t know what was the use for Mickey to keep his own apartment. It was simply a storage place there. And most of his stuff were here, at Ian’s.

Ian breathed in deeply, his hand stroking Mickey’s soft belly through the fabric. His boyfriend mumbled something under his breath before slightly shifting under the covers. He was looking at Mickey’s face again, how peaceful he seemed while he slept. He loved that.

He heard a phone starting buzzing on the single nightstand. He glanced one last time at Mickey before taking the phone in hand to see who was calling them at nearly 11 at night.

It was Ian’s phone buzzing, an incoming call from Shawn.

Barely connecting the line, he heard his best friend’s breathless voice. “Ian? It’s you?”

“Yeah,” he muttered. He untangled himself from Mickey and left the room as silently as possible. “What’s up?”

“I fucked up, Ian. I fucked up pretty badly,” he cried. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Wait up,” Ian said startled. “What did you do?”

“I mean, it felt so good,” the other man kept on.

“Shawn, what felt so good? Talk to me.”

“Having them both,” he replied. Ian had never had a proper conversation concerning what he had thought he had witnessed at the New Year’s Eve party. He’d never mentioned to his best friend that he assumed something was going on between him, his girlfriend and his former roommate. That was surely about them, though.

“You’re talking about Zoey and Boris?” he tried.

“Yeah,” the other man let out, his breath catching in his throat. “I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d tell me how risky it was but after New Year’s Eve…”

“New Year’s Eve?” He faked not knowing what had happened. In fact, he had never had any proof.

“The three of us got hot and heavy,” he simply said.

“And that wasn’t the only time, I assume.”

“No… It kept on. I don’t know what to do,” he told him.

“You gotta be honest with them and even yourself,” Ian told him. He settled at the counter, resting his head against the palm of his hand.

“I don’t know how.”

“You know how, Shawn,” he retorted.

“No, Ian. I feel like a gay man in love with a chick,” he told him. “I think I’m in love with her.”

“Tell him that then. Tell him you can’t keep doing this now.”

“But I want to. I… I physically _need_ to,” he said. Shawn didn’t have to draw him a picture for him to understand what he meant. He could hear his best friend losing it on the other side of the line.

“Come over,” Ian told him.

“No, I –“

“Shawn, come by. Please. I think you need it,” he told him.

“I do,” the older man agreed.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet.”

***

Ian stayed a couple of minutes in the kitchen before snapping out of it and reentering the bedroom. He crawled on the bed until his mouth reached Mickey’s ear.

“Mickey,” he murmured. The other man didn’t budge. “Mickey,” he repeated as lowly, caressing his chest at the same time. His boyfriend turned to face him and caught his lips in a soft kiss. Ian let Mickey kiss him, but parted before sleepy sex happened.

He sat up on his calves, hand still on his chest.

“Shawn is going to come by in a few,” he told him.

Mickey frowned and glanced at the alarm clock on the nightstand. “Why?”

“Girlfriend and boyfriend troubles.”

“Ah, both?” Ian nodded as a response, his lips making a thin line. “Alright, let me get dressed.”

“No,” Ian stopped him. He then bent forward, anchoring him in bed. “Stay in bed and get some sleep. I know you need to.”

“Ian.”

“I only woke you up so that you knew who I’ll be talking to in the middle of the night,” Ian explained.

“Alright,” he nodded. “Come here.”

Ian kissed him deeply before settling back against him – waiting for his best friend to arrive.

***

The light knock on the front door woke him up from his reverie. No, he wasn’t sleeping – only daydreaming. Mickey didn’t budge, though, and he was glad his boyfriend wasn’t stubborn enough to stay awake.

“Hey,” he simply said when he opened the door. Shawn was a mess, eyes rimmed, shoulders limp. “Come here,” he told him. He hugged him tight. It felt a tad odd to cuddle him, Ian had to admit it at least to himself. The contact had stopped when they had stopped fucking. Hugging wasn’t something they really did – until tonight.

“I don’t know what to do,” Shawn repeated.

Ian led him towards the couch and they both settled on it. “So, you love her?”

“I think I do, yeah,” the other man nodded, sniffing loudly. “Can I be crude or your fear of any mentions of sexual activity with a chick will make you stop me?”

Ian dared a smile at that and said, “Alright, be crude.”

“The sex is good. So good. I mean, I’d missed this – getting off with a chick. It’s so different than with a guy and I was honestly on cloud nine every time.”

“Until Boris came along.”

“Until Boris came along,” he agreed. “I miss the contact with a dude. She even has to finger me while we’re fucking ‘cause I can’t keep it up sometimes otherwise.”

“Tough shit,” Ian commented.

“Yeah. I mean, it’s not fair that I have to think of some random guy fingering me so that I can hit it off.”

“And you said the threesome happened more than once? Doesn’t she mind or something? ‘Cause I assume you’re in the middle of it, right?”

“I generally am, sometimes not. She seems to enjoy it as much as he does, to be honest.”

“And you don’t?” Ian asked.

“If I don’t? I’m getting to fuck my girlfriend while being fucked by a guy? Sweet dream, right?”

“Depends. If it makes you doubt like that, I don’t think that’s _that_ awesome,” Ian retorted.

“Yeah,” the other man sighed. He leaned against the back of the couch, eyes on the ceiling. “That’s unfair…”

“To whom?” Ian wondered aloud. Shawn turned his face towards him.

“Everyone,” he said. “Zoey doesn’t deserve that. Boris doesn’t deserve that. And I don’t neither.”

“Yet, you’re the only one freaking out about it.”

“Because I’m the only one not happy about our arrangement anymore.”

“So what? You’re going to dump her even though you think you’re in love? Or maybe stop having sex with him, even though that’s the only way for you to get off?”

“I don’t know what to do, man. That’s why I came to you,” Shawn huffed, his frustration showing.

“Sorry,” Ian muttered. “I’m not particularly good advice when it comes to chicks or threesomes, man.”

“I know…”

“Hey,” Ian said, nudging his shoulder. He then tilted his head towards his side. Shawn shifted on the couch before leaning against Ian, his head on his shoulder. Ian gently stroked his side, trying to soothe him a bit. After a couple of minutes, he heard the door to the bedroom opening. Mickey appeared with bed hair and a sheet around him. He frowned as he saw them. “We woke you up?”

Mickey simply shook his head no, staying still. “I maybe should leave,” Shawn muttered awkwardly.

“Don’t be stupid,” Mickey said. “Move over,” he only added, walking towards Ian. He settled against the end of the couch so that Ian could move between his legs – resting against him. Shawn remained against Ian as well. It wasn’t that odd, being between Mickey’s legs and lying against his chest. What felt odd was the fact that, adding to this, Shawn was lying between his own legs, half resting against him.

“That’s weird,” Ian said once they were settled.

“It’s only weird if you make it weird,” Mickey retorted. He kissed lightly at Ian’s neck before ruffling the wild blond curls. “So you tapped both asses?”

“I did,” Shawn said.

“Got messy?”

“Yeah.”

“Sorry, I guess,” Mickey only said. Ian turned his face towards his boyfriend and pecked his lips gently.

“Thank you,” he muttered and Mickey only nodded in response.

He felt Mickey falling back asleep, his heartbeats steadying. Shawn didn’t last long neither, having cried himself to sleep. So Ian simply closed his eyes, resting his head against Mickey’s neck and breathing his scent, while holding Shawn near him protectively.

***

Ian woke up first, his back hurting. During the night, they had landed in a mess of limbs. Mickey was comfortably lying on his back. Shawn was on his side, stuck between Mickey and the back of the couch while Ian was sprawled on top of them both – his face hiding in the crook of Mickey’s neck.

He managed to get up without waking the other men. He went to the kitchen to drink some water before checking his phone. It was nearly 6 AM, the Sun hadn’t risen yet in the March sky.

Two weeks prior, Ian had decided to get his routine back on the line. He tried to go running at least three times a week before work. It was hard to go back at it after months skipping it, but he felt like improving as he managed to get a steady pace. He glanced back towards the couch to see his best friend and his boyfriend soundly asleep.

The energy was buzzing in his body, so he decided to quickly get changed. He left a note before leaving, in case the boys would wake up before he came back.

***

He came home to a silent apartment. He smirked to himself as he saw Mickey with his arm thrown over Shawn’s side. He made a show of making pans clatter in the kitchen to wake them up. They barely moved, Mickey cuddling closer to Shawn.

Ian had his eyes on them, his wicked smile still on. He assumed the men hadn’t realized just yet what they were doing.

He heard Mickey muttering, “Hello, gingerbread.” He saw him nuzzling at Shawn’s neck. Ian had to suppress his laughter to let the show go on.

Shawn only hummed under his breath, stretching his limbs. He was the first one to open his eyes. When they landed on Mickey next to him, they widened. “The fuck?” he almost yelled.

Mickey’s eyes shot up at that as well. “What – Hell!” he managed to say, trying to untangle himself from the other man – landing on the floor while doing so.

Ian couldn’t hide his laughter anymore and two pairs of eyes shot daggers at him.

“You were so cute,” he mocked them.

“Fuck off with your cuteness,” Mickey grumbled. He ran a hand on his back, probably having hurt himself by falling.

Shawn looked between the two of them before asking Ian, “Please, tell me I didn’t bring myself in another weird threesome thing.”

“No, you haven’t,” Ian reassured him.

“Sure as fuck never will with us,” Mickey grumbled as he stood up.

“Cool then,” Shawn nodded, propping himself on his elbows.

“Breakfast?” Ian offered, standing still in the kitchen.

“Say yes,” he heard Mickey muttering. “He never cooks anymore.”

“I heard that,” Ian told him.

“I think I’ll get going, though,” Shawn smiled apologetically at Mickey.

“You suck,” Mickey mumbled.

Shawn stood up and walked towards Ian.

“Thanks for last night,” he told him sincerely. Ian curtly nodded. “Oh, and cook your boyfriend some breakfast, for Christ’s sake,” he added in a whisper.

“And you, sort your shit-show of relationships,” he retorted with a smile.

“Alright,” he sighed. “I will.”

Shawn collected his belongings around the apartment before leaving. In the meantime, Mickey made his way to the kitchen, arching his back painfully. He started turning on the coffee maker and was about to start breakfast, but Ian slapped his hand away.

“Let me take care of that,” he told him when they were just the two of them again.

“You don’t have to,” Mickey relented.

“But I want to,” he said. He cornered Mickey against the counter to kiss his lips softly. Mickey’s hands settled lowly on his hips – his thumbs drawing circles on the bare skin under his sweater. Ian tilted his head to deepen the kiss, and Mickey moaned quietly as he pushed his tongue in Ian’s mouth. Soon, the older man started biting teasingly at Ian’s bottom lip before putting an end to the kiss. “How about,” Ian started, brushing a lock of black hair falling on Mickey’s face. “We make a quick breakfast and I take care of you then,” he said as he stroked Mickey’s back soothingly.

The dark haired man closed his eyes in pleasure as Ian stroked the pain away from his muscles.

“Okay,” he agreed in a soft moan.

***

Later that morning, they both stood under the stream of hot water. They still had about half an hour before they would have to leave for work. Ian scrubbed Mickey’s back with soap, the water cleaning his skin from any product right away.

Mickey held onto the rail where the showerhead stood. He had his head bowed down as Ian worked on his body. He didn’t stop the moans from escaping his mouth as Ian’s fingers soothed his muscles.

After having cleaned him up, Ian settled his hands on Mickey’s hips. He then kissed the back of Mickey’s neck gently. He kept on leaving open mouthed kisses on his skin – his neck and shoulder blades mostly. After a short while, Mickey’s fingers treaded in Ian’s growing hair. He turned his face and kissed his boyfriend deeply. Ian tasted Mickey’s mouth with his tongue. Their faces were wet, making it sloppier than intended. As he kissed him, Ian let his hands trailing down on Mickey’s body. One held him firmly on his stomach while the other rested casually on his small back.

“Stay like this,” Ian muttered as he parted from the kiss. Mickey simply nodded. His lips were shiny red from the kiss and his eyes darker than usual.

Ian made him face the wall again, his fingertips caressing down Mickey’s body. He carefully went down on his knees – not wanting to slip and break the mood. Mickey seemed to understand what was coming – his knuckles going white as he held onto the rail harder.

Ian kissed his buttocks gently a few times before separating them. He licked down Mickey’s wet crack before mouthing at his asshole. He made his boyfriend bent over slightly more, to get a better access to his hole.

Despite the sound of water hitting flesh, Ian could hear the quiet whimpers leaving his boyfriend’s throat as he kept on kissing his hole. When he felt Mickey’s body relaxed enough, he started thrusting his tongue in it.

Mickey groaned loudly at the sensation, pushing his ass against Ian’s face. The redhead had learned he didn’t do that on purpose. Mickey always apologized for forcing him this way, or when his hips bucked a little too much in Ian’s mouth as he blew him. Ian didn’t mind, though. He loved knowing he pleased Mickey so easily, to the point of making him lose control with his mouth only.

Ian hummed loudly against his puckered hole, accelerating the pace with his tongue. He showed Mickey how much he was enjoying eating him out. He loved going down on Mickey – no matter whether it was to have his dick in his mouth or for it to be attached to his asshole. He knew Mickey loved that as well, so that was a plus he enjoyed using.

“Ian,” Mickey only whimpered. The redhead released his buttocks, trapping his face between them. As he kept tonguing at his hole, he caressed down Mickey’s thighs. He loved his legs – loved them being wrapped around his neck or waist.

He felt the balance on Mickey’s feet changing. Ian gripped firmly at one of Mickey’s thigh – just above his knee – to steady himself. His other hand crept up and, surely, joining Mickey’s as the other man jerked himself off. Ian covered his hand with his own and they jerked Mickey’s shaft with a rapid pace.

Mickey was losing control even more. His hips bucked towards their hands, but quickly went back towards Ian’s mouth.

“Jesus – Ian,” he groaned as the redhead flicked his wrist just the way he loved it. Ian moaned loudly against his ass, his tongue still in. He felt Mickey clenching around him. Only few seconds later, his boyfriend moaned loudly and Ian could feel hot sticky semen covering his hand.

Ian pulled out of his asshole, his forehead resting against one of Mickey’s buttocks. His boyfriend leaned forward against the tiles. Ian caught his breath for a minute before teasingly biting in the round flesh. He heard the soft chuckle leaving Mickey’s mouth.

At last, Ian stood up. His knees were hurting in the most delightful way. Mickey turned back around, a lazy smile spreading on his face. He then laced his arms around Ian’s neck and pulled him in for a passionate kiss.

The water was turning lukewarm, but they didn’t seem to mind. He felt one of Mickey’s hand creeping south. It wrapped around his leaking erection as the other one gripped his hair tightly. They didn’t stop kissing as Mickey got him off.

It was a quick job on Ian – he could honestly get off by the simple action of pleasuring Mickey. He’d had before. He’d come once or twice just from blowing him. Mickey had been turned on even more, and these nights had ended up in being late ones – few rounds of sex happening before they would be too tired to go on.

Ian came silently as he bit down Mickey’s bottom lip. His eyes were closed, but he pressed them tighter as his orgasm hit him. He felt more than heard Mickey as he muttered, “I love you,” against his lips.

Ian pushed him until his back hit the tiles – a low chuckle escaped Mickey’s throat again. “I love you too,” he told him. Mickey parted to look at him in the eyes. He quickly pecked his lips once more then before he took upon himself to rinse them off. Ian let himself being taken care off – even if that was a quick job.

When they exited the tub, Ian glanced at the clock they had hung in the bathroom. They had been late several times because of morning bathroom sex so they had decided to have a clock in this room as well. They only had a couple of minutes left before they would have to leave for work if they wanted to be on time that morning.

They rapidly brushed their teeth and got dressed. Ian could feel Mickey’s eyes lingering on him as he tied his tie. He loved how Mickey would watch him with a glint in his eyes – as if he was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

They left the apartment together, standing close in the elevator.

“Wanna grab lunch together today?” Mickey surprised him by asking. Ian was generally the one to offer when it was brought up.

“Can’t,” he reluctantly refused. “Lunch with the boss and some coworkers today.”

“Oh,” Mickey simply said. They went down a couple of floors before he opened his mouth again. “I don’t like your boss and how close he is to you.”

“Mickey, there’s –“ he started off with, but quickly shut himself up. He studied Mickey’s features quickly. His face was open, honest – almost scared. That was more than jealousy written on his features. “12:30 good for you?” he said instead.

“No, Ian, I –“

“12:30 then,” Ian nodded as if Mickey hadn’t said a thing. “I’ll come to get you so you better be ready. Then we’ll join them at the restaurant.”

“Ian, you don’t have to,” Mickey argued as the doors opened in front of them.

“I want to,” he told him. “I want them to see the man I’m always ranting about. And I want you to see them so that you won’t worry.”

They exited the lobby of the building and Ian quickly kissed Mickey goodbye before they parted ways.

“See you at lunch,” Ian said loudly when they were feet apart. He could see the shy smile spreading on Mickey’s lips as he headed off to work.

Surely, at lunch, everyone talked Mickey’s ears off about how Ian couldn’t shut up about his awesome boyfriend at home. Mickey was relaxed with them, and Ian could see the approving smile from David. The man told him later on that they looked like a happy couple and talked about their own relationships. David seemed like the father figure Ian never really had.

 

* * *

* * *

 

Things were doing great for Mickey. He had been working at the warehouse for nearly three months now. He’d suffered from the over-marketing of Valentine’s Day, the Chinese New Year, and Easter, yet he was still alive. His coworkers were still pretty nice to him. He had even been invited to Lee’s birthday party the weekend before. No. He and Ian had been invited. His coworkers seemed to have adopted Ian as well, despite having seen him only a bunch of times.

His manager had given him more responsibilities as weeks had gone by. He was now allowed to use the forklift truck by himself. That seemed silly – Ian had even teased him when he’d come home to this great news. Mickey felt accomplished, though. He was allowed to deal with some issues in a way some of his coworkers had struggled for months to handle half of it. It was a boost in his self-esteem. After having handled different kind of jobs, he finally felt truly useful.

Sure, at the end of the day – or some weeks even – he went home completely exhausted and wasn’t able to leave the bed for the whole weekend. Well, during these weekends, Ian was also part of the reason why Mickey wouldn’t leave the bed.

They had finished Ian’s stack of condoms, with no intention to buy more. They had tested different kind of lubricant, different brands even. The bottom drawer of the nightstand was filled with clean towels and the top one had few toys in it, along with too many bottles or tubes of lubricant.

Mickey was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t hear Jenny yelling at him. It was only when he was hit square in the head by what seemed to be cellophane tape that he snapped out of his reverie.

“Watch out,” he growled.

“Or what?” she dared him, raising her eyebrows. “Your phone’s been going off, man. I wouldn’t keep my man waiting if I were you. Or maybe I would,” she said with a devilish smirk. “He would punish me,” she added, faking a moan.

“You’re stupid,” he retorted, laughing. He grabbed the tape and threw it at her face before she left him, laughing.

Swiftly, he took his phone out of his pocket to see that wasn’t even Ian calling him. It was Shawn.

“Yo, man,” he answered the call.

“Hey,” the blond replied. “You busy?”

“Kinda. I’m at work,” he retorted. He turned the forklift truck back on to keep on working while talking to Shawn. “What’s up?”

“I’m single,” he stated.

“Well, congrats I guess.”

“No, Mick. I’m _single_. I broke it off, with both of them.”

“Oh,” it snapped in his brain.

“Yeah, I needed to tell someone,” the blond admitted.

“Why didn’t you call Ian, then?” he asked him.

“Didn’t answer. So I called you.”

“Yeah, I assumed,” he said smartly. “Are you okay, though? You seemed pretty upset last time the subject was brought up.”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I think I haven’t realized just yet that I won’t be coming home to my girlfriend tonight.”

“Sucks, hm?”

“Yeah, it does. But it’s better for everyone else.”

“Why didn’t you keep going with Boris, though?” Mickey wondered out loud. Shawn hadn’t dared talking much about Boris to Ian. He had known the redhead’s opinion on the guy was final: he didn’t like him. So Shawn had gone to Mickey to say these things – to tell how good the Russian descendant was in bed, how much he’d changed along the years. Mickey knew Shawn’s opinion on the guy had changed. Even if the blond wouldn’t admit it to himself, Mickey knew he liked him more than just for sex.

“I don’t see myself in a relationship with him,” Shawn said lowly.

“Who talked about relationship? I’m talking about fucking here,” Mickey retorted.

“And I’m talking about finding someone to come home to at the end of the day, Mick. I’m 27 for Christ’s sake.”

“Not that old.”

“Not that young,” the blond shot back, making Mickey smile.

“So what are you gonna do? You’re gonna stay at your place every night, sulking and crying yourself to sleep? Or maybe coming to our place and crashing on our couch because you can’t handle the loneliness?”

“First off, fuck you,” Shawn said drily. “You know I’m not like that. And second, when did you move in?”

“Move in?” Mickey repeated.

“Our place, our couch? You finally accepted Ian’s endless offers?”

“No, I haven’t, I –“

“You can’t because you might fuck up again. I know the song, Mick. Don’t try that with me. Ian might not want to push you into moving in but I am. I’m being on both of your sides by saying this: move in with him. You’ll make him even happier. You’ll be even happier. You’ll share an apartment for real, meaning you wouldn’t have to pay the rent for two different places. Hell, with the money you’re making, you’ll probably be able to afford a better place, even.”

“Better place having a guest room for you, I assume,” Mickey retorted, trying to dodge the subject.

The blond seemed to think about it before answering, “I guess, yeah. But you know what I mean, Mick.”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “I know.”

“Good. Because I can’t handle another of Ian’s rant about you not wanting to move in when you actually live there already.”

“Alright, I’ll talk to him about it. Jesus. Someone’s not getting laid,” he said without thinking.

“And that’s just the beginning of it,” Shawn retorted smartly. “But seriously,” he said, clearing his throat. “You two are happy. Do what I can’t do, alright?”

“Okay,” he agreed. “I need to get back to work, though.”

“Alright, me too I think.”

“I’ll see –“

“Oh, fuck.”

“What?”

“Alisha’s coming my way and she seems beyond pissed.”

“Alisha’s Zoey friend, right?”

“She is,” he confirmed.

“Good luck with that, then,” Mickey laughed quietly.

“Yeah. Thanks for the support, Mick.”

“Always!”

***

Later that day, Mickey couldn’t stop thinking of Shawn’s words regarding Ian. He’d been distracted all day long. At lunch, Jenny had even asked him if everything was okay – if he wanted to talk about it. There was nothing to talk about, he just needed to make it official. It shouldn’t be bad hard.

When he came back home – well, to Ian’s apartment actually – the redhead was already there. He was sprawled on the couch, his tie unmade and shirt out of his pants. There was a cup a tea on the coffee table. His boyfriend was engrossed by the book he was reading. He only let out a “Hey,” when he heard him – his eyes never leaving the pages.

Mickey hung his coat on the hook by the door and took his boots off. He strolled towards his boyfriend and crawled on his lap. Ian frowned, trying to keep on reading. Mickey had other plans. He took the book out of Ian’s hands – not caring for the huff escaping Ian’s mouth. He marked the page before putting it on the coffee table. He then settled properly on Ian, his forearms framing Ian’s face against the armrest.

“Hey,” he said softly. Ian’s almost annoyed face quickly vanished when he heard his voice.

“Hey,” he mirrored him. The redhead laced his arms around his boyfriend.

“Why aren’t you at work?” Generally, they finished work at around the same time.

“Told you David had a family thing today.”

“So?”

“Meaning we, basic employees, can fuck off when our work is done. I finished all I had to work at around 3 PM.”

“So you’ve been home for that long?” Mickey asked and Ian nodded. “Alright,” he said, placing his head against Ian’s chest now. “Have you heard from Shawn today?”

“Yeah, you?”

“He called me this morning.”

“I’m glad he put an end to that,” Ian admitted.

“It wasn’t sane,” Mickey agreed. “You think he’ll end up back with one of them?”

“I’m scared he’ll try something with Boris, to be honest,” Ian all but spat. The redhead really had a thing against him.

“It wouldn’t be that bad,” Mickey tried.

“And why’s that?” Ian huffed, looking down at him.

“They’re friends. They’ve known each other for years and apparently they work out pretty well in bed together. Why not letting him be happy and make mistakes with this guy?”

“It wouldn’t be a sane relationship neither,” Ian retorted.

“Why are you so sure about that?”

“Shawn doesn’t even like him that much. He just loves the sex,” Ian said, fingers drumming against Mickey.

The older man hesitated for a short while before saying, “It’s not only the sex.”

“What?”

“You’ve heard me well. I don’t think that’s only the sex, man. He likes him.”

“He can’t –“

“You’re not the one choosing what he can and can’t do, Ian.”

“I know, but I’m talking for him now, as his best friend, he can’t do that…”

“Let him live his life,” Mickey concluded, kissing the side of Ian’s neck.

“I just want people around me to be happy,” Ian whispered. Suddenly, Mickey knew. He needed to do that. Ian wanted everyone around him to be happy, but who cared for his own happiness? Mickey did, more than everyone else around.

“Mr Kripple answer the phone after 6 PM?” he asked, loving the way Ian’s face scrunched up.

“I think so, why? There’s a problem somewhere?”

“No, he just needs to find someone for the 7th floor’s apartment,” he casually replied. He saw everything working up in Ian’s brain, a huge grin blooming on his face. “It’s what, a single month notice or two?”

“I love you,” Ian only replied, kissing Mickey’s face everywhere but for his lips. The older man couldn’t stop himself from laughing at Ian’s childish behavior. “I love you, I love you,” he kept on repeated against his skin.

“We’ll have to spend a whole weekend moving out, though,” Mickey said, his grin tainted his voice. “And we’re getting rid of your table and we keep mine.”

“Whatever you want,” Ian agreed. He flipped them over on the couch to land on top of Mickey. He looked down at him with this glint in his eyes that Mickey loved so much.

“And we’re adding another nightstand to the bedroom then.”

“Sure,” Ian complied. Mickey was sure his boyfriend wasn’t even listening to him anymore, so he simply grabbed his tie and led his lips against his own.


	21. Epilogue: 365+ part two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you AO3 users JAinsel and DanaRenee101 for reminding me that people were waiting for me to finish this story. Thank you Dee (aka thewriterofperfectdisasters in here or im-not-his-keeper on tumblr) for your live-snapchatting while reading this story for the last few weeks. It really motivated me to go back to this to give it a closure. And the biggest thank you to Nuria (aka Enne or mrsenneshaw) for absolutely everything. Everyone should be thanking her because without her, this story might have been abandoned before published the 7th chapter. She gave me inspiration and motivated me all through the process of writing this story and she's been the absolute best beta I could have hoped for.
> 
> This story is sadly over, I'll miss my OCs (especially my little angel Shawn) but everything has to end, right?
> 
> If inspiration strikes again (like it did few days ago, making me write 10k so quickly), this story might have a couple of follow-up one-shots BUT this is just an hypothesis. Don't take my word for granted. Now, let's enjoy the last part of these two idiots in love.

Mickey was lying on his front. He didn’t know for how long he’d been trying to fall asleep, but that wasn’t working. The heat of end of May mixed with Ian’s furnace next to him prevented him from finding some sleep – despite the exhaustion.

Despite having taken a shower only hours before, he could feel himself sweaty and gross. His skin stuck to the sheets and he assumed a small pool of sweat had already gathered on the small of his back. He sighed heavily and turned his head towards Ian.

“Hey,” he said softly, nudging at his elbow. He didn’t want to be that much of an ass and wake Ian up if his boyfriend had managed to fall asleep.

“Hm,” he only replied – but that was enough to tell Mickey his boyfriend was actually still awake.

“Go open the window,” he demanded still as lowly.

“ _You_ go open the window. You’re nearest to it,” Ian retorted.

“It’s your apartment.”

“ _Our_ ,” Ian corrected him.

“My name isn’t on the lease yet,” he smartly shot back – just because he could. He knew, though, that he was living here, for real. It was his nightstand next to him. There was his table in the living room and other different items scattered all over the apartment showed that it wasn’t Ian’s anymore but theirs.

“But you live here.” Ian had opened his eyes, now. Mickey could barely see the glint in them, but he heard the question behind it all. _Are you regretting this?_

“Please?” He said softly. He pouted a little, just for the show. He was honestly too tired – or too lazy – to get up right now to open a window, but still, he’d kill for some fresher air.

He saw the shift in Ian’s eyes, the one making him understand that he’d won anyways. “You’re an ass, you know that?”

“But you love me.”

“I do,” he sighed and sat up. Mickey could see that Ian’s body as well was shiny with sweat. They were only wearing boxers to bed – when they could be bothered to actually put some on.

“Thanks,” Mickey mumbled when he heard Ian standing up. He closed his eyes again, trying to find a comfortable position – readying himself to sleep, at last. His ears pricked up, catching every little noises Ian made. How he smartly made his way around the bed without hitting his foot against some furniture. How he opened the window wide. How he shifted the curtains to fall in front of the now open space – to give them a little bit more privacy.

The fresh air hit his bare back blissfully, making the hairs rise. It was stopped short, though, when he heard Ian’s footsteps coming to a halt next to him and then, when his boyfriend dropped his body on top of him.

“Ian,” he complained. Trying to make him fall on the bed next to him. Ian did move, but only to settle himself on top of him properly.

“That’s what you get,” he mumbled before placing his cheek against the back of Mickey’s neck.

“It’s too hot,” Mickey grumbled, squirming a little to make Ian shift away from him – unsuccessfully.

“ _You’re_ too hot,” Ian corrected him.

“Thanks to who, hm?”

“Me, maybe?”

“Hm?” Mickey turned his head to try facing Ian – barely seeing him out of the corner of his eye. Ian took the opportunity of an offered cheek to kiss it.

“Our apartment,” Ian whispered, keeping on kissing his cheek.

“Has been for awhile now,” Mickey retorted, getting used to the weight on his back.

“Can’t wrap my head around it,” Ian admitted lowly. Mickey felt fingertips brushing along his sides softly. “You’re here,” Ian murmured ever so lowly. “You’re with me. You’re not leaving. It’s just us.”

“Not planning on leaving,” Mickey agreed.

“I wouldn’t let you.”

“Oh, you wouldn’t, hm?”

“I think I’m too much in love with you for that.”

“You’re an idiot,” Mickey said with no venom. He didn’t understand sometimes how Ian could love him that much, and want him around forever with every shit he’d gone through because of him. He wanted that – being with Ian with no expiration date labelled on their relationship.

“An idiot you live with,” Ian said in response.

“Yes.”

They grew silent afterwards, and Mickey could feel the sweat between their bodies. Opening the window had been, in fact, only useful to Ian – he couldn’t feel its benefits when his furnace of a boyfriend decided he was more comfortable than the mattress. Ian kept on stroking his sides slowly, probably absentmindedly.

Mickey had to admit that despite being hotter than earlier, it was oddly comfortable. Having Ian anchoring him to bed, and having their sweat mixing – hell, it felt gross but he felt safe. He remembered those nights without Ian, how lonely and vulnerable he’d felt. Well, those nights alone had meant them being not-together or on the verge to be. He breathed in deeply, brushing the thought off. He was in bed with Ian. He lived with Ian in his apartment. No, scratch that. Their apartment. It was their home. Officially or not, Ian’s apartment had always felt more like a home than Mickey’s own had ever been. Mickey thought of his apartment as an in-between, temporary place between two lives: the one with Mandy, the easy one – romantically speaking – the suffering through life because he had to and this one, the love affair, the feeling of being alive, being loved, fulfilled, complete – loving his work, loving his home, loving his boyfriend, hell, loving his life. Period. The in-between had been messy, but it was worth it in the end.

“Stop thinking so loudly,” Ian muttered in his ear.

“I’m not.”

“Sure, you are.” Ian kissed his cheek again, before going down his neck. He nuzzled at the back of his neck before partly slightly from the skin. “It’s not like I know you by heart by now.”

“What was I thinking about then?” Mickey asked him, more like dared him. He tried to shift on his side as much as he actually could without dislodging Ian.

Ian settled his forearm against the mattress to hold himself up. “Us.”

“Easy. I’m thinking about us like 80% of the time.”

“Only 80?” Ian tilted his head to the side.

“Yes. Then add 10 more percent of only thinking about you.”

“Damn, you’re such a sap,” Ian chuckled quietly before putting his lips to Mickey’s.

“Part of my charm,” he retorted, trying to free one of his hand to cup Ian’s jaw, but not managing to.

“I wouldn’t bet on that,” Ian told him.

“You’re hurting my feelings a bit there,” he joked. He pecked Ian’s lips gently once more as Ian stroked his hair softly.

“I gotta make up for it, then,” Ian whispered in his mouth. Mickey assumed he knew where this was heading, but even if it weren’t, he was content with having Ian kissing him like he was currently doing. His boyfriend licked his bottom lip with the tip of his tongue playfully before sealing their lips properly. As gross as it sounded, Mickey loved Ian’s tongue. He loved it everywhere on – in – him. He loved how sensual Ian managed to be while kissing him – how it wasn’t only kissing. It was more than just that. It was Ian stroking his hair. It was Ian’s lingering touches on him. It was Ian kissing him exactly how he liked it. It was Ian, simply being Ian, and loving him through kisses. It was Ian’s tongue playing with his and making him wonder how Ian could make kissing feel so good. It was ‘ _I love you_ ’s popping in Mickey’s head whenever Ian did that thing of sucking lightly at his bottom lip, biting it and then plunging his tongue back in his mouth as if these few seconds without it touching Mickey’s were far too long.

Another _I love you_ popped up in Mickey’s mind then, and he just wished he could touch Ian – feel him the same way Ian could do to him. Ian’s fingers were caressing his left side while his other hand rested in his hair.

“Ian,” he breathed in a quiet moan. His boyfriend pecked his lips before opening his darkened eyes. Their noses were touching with the lack of distance separating them. Ian’s whole face was shiny with a thin film of sweat, but his eyes glowed brighter – his lips shone brighter. His faint freckles appeared like a constellation of stars in a cloudless summer night – everywhere and nowhere all at once. Ian licked his swollen lips tentatively and Mickey found it too damn adorable when he did that – as if he was asking for some sort of permission.

Ian leaned in to put his mouth on his. It was the only link between them as Ian started to hover over him. He put his weight on his left forearm and with his right hand, gripped gently at Mickey’s shoulder. Mickey didn’t need to be told, he only followed the movement to shift on his back.

Once his back was one with the sheet underneath him, Ian’s hands framed his face and his body slowly fitted back on top of him. Mickey, at last, was able to lace his arms around him – bringing him even closer if possible. He ran his hands across Ian’s sweaty back, feelings the muscles tensing underneath the skin. Ian going back to his exercising routine was definitely showing. He was beginning to get more built, and Mickey found back the man who’d been manhandling him over a pool table months ago.

Mickey spread his legs slightly, making his boyfriend slide between them. He heard Ian’s moan as pressure was put against both of their groins. Mickey loosely wrapped his legs around Ian’s thighs as well. Ian gasped shortly, separating their lips but still breathing the same air.

Mickey watched him in bliss as he settled a hand on the small of the redhead’s back – letting the other one roam freely against the skin. Mickey was engrossed by the way Ian’s face was showing pleasure. His eyes were shut, his eyebrows barely making a frown, his lips parted as little noises escaped them.

Mickey rolled his hips against Ian’s, deepening the redhead’s frown as he moaned louder.

“Jesus, Mick,” Ian murmured then. He let his head drop in the crook of his boyfriend’s neck. Mickey resumed grinding against him, rolling his hips against his skillfully. He bathed in the sharp intakes and soft moans his boyfriend let out against his skin. Ian’s body grew even hotter, making Mickey vaguely wonder how the redhead could bear such heat. But, at the same time, Mickey was the one pressed against damp sheets by his burning hot boyfriend – he lived.

Mickey felt their boxers getting wetter, the head of Ian’s penis trying to escape the constricted space of the black fabric. Between sweat and precome, their underwear were probably a mess. He didn’t even care the slightest.

He turned his head to kiss Ian, wherever he could. He hit the cheek, though, and kept on peppering it with soft kisses. He could feel Ian’s hot breath against his neck, giving him the chills with how much his boyfriend turned him on. Ian left an open mouth kiss against his neck, then another. He made his way up to catch Mickey’s lips in a deep sigh.

Mickey breathed sharply through his nose as Ian’s body shifted on top of him. Ian’s hands went back to caressing his sides, sending shivers through his body. He felt the hairs rising at Ian’s electric touches. He struggled to breathe through his nose, but he wouldn’t let go of Ian’s mouth. He loved it too much.

Ian’s hands went southern, and his thumbs hooked with the elastic band of Mickey’s boxers. He didn’t push them down at first. He kept on kissing Mickey while his fingers rested there. After another _I love you_ popped up in Mickey’s mind, Ian broke away from the kiss. He bit down his own bottom lip as his eyes racked over Mickey’s face. Lust.

He remained there, breathing deeply with his eyes on his boyfriend. Their groins were still pressed together, and Mickey assumed Ian’s imagination was playing delightful images – he felt a twitch against his own penis. After a short while, Ian pushed himself away from Mickey and the older man wouldn’t even try denying the whine leaving his mouth. Ian sat up on his calves and pushed Mickey’s underwear down. Once off, he dropped them by the bed and went back to lie on top of Mickey.

Mickey let out of a small whimper – mirroring Ian’s one – as their hard-ons touched with one less layer separating them.

“Off, off,” he told Ian, trying to take his boxers off – but actually caressing his buttocks.

“Just a second,” the redhead murmured in his ear before placing his head on the pillow next to Mickey’s. He then took off the offensive fabric of his underwear – kicking them away. “Better?” he dared asking him as their sensitive skin touched at last.

“So much,” Mickey agreed. “Come here,” he murmured, stroking Ian’s face. With the side of their faces laid on the pillow, Mickey kissed his lips almost shyly – lovingly. He brushed Ian’s curls away from his forehead. He loved how the redhead was letting his hair grow, but what he loved most was when the curls were free and wild. No one knew Ian like this. Well, maybe his family had seen him with longer hair and yet to be straightened, but the redhead never went out without straightening it. Mickey had the privileged pleasure to run his fingers through the curls whenever he wished.

Ian’s body slid against Mickey’s – the sweat not helping. Mickey made him shift so that they were both on their sides – lips still locked. He threw his right leg over Ian’s hip – searching for some contact, and finding it.

His own dick was pressed against Ian’s lower abdomen, while Ian’s had managed to spring free and was currently resting against Mickey’s ass cheeks. Mickey brought one of his hand down and started caressing gently Ian’s shaft. It remained against his ass, but Mickey was pressing it even more against him with his strokes.

“God, Mickey,” Ian breathed sharply. The older man could feel Ian rocking his hips slowly against him. “God, I love you.”

“Yeah,” Mickey managed to let out. Little did he know, Ian snuck his hand between their chests and started jerking his erection as well. “Oh, fuck,” he breathed out, turning his face towards the pillow. Ian took this occasion to go back to mouthing at the exposed neck. His boyfriend wasn’t teasing him – he was giving him everything.

He licked and sucked at his neck just the way he liked it. He pumped his shaft at a slow, but steady, pace. He felt against his skin murmurs leaving Ian’s throat, but he couldn’t make out what he was saying.

After another moment of pure bliss, Mickey shifted and almost lied on top of Ian to reach for the nightstand. Ian let out a complaint as he had to detach his mouth from Mickey. But once the older man had the first tube of lubricant he’d found in hand, he brought them back to their previous position.

Ian chuckled lightly before kissing him gently.

“Gimme that,” he said, taking the lubricant from Mickey’s palm. Mickey observed Ian’s face as he squirted some on his fingers – well, he assumed so. His boyfriend had both hands behind his back. Ian’s eyes then settled on Mickey, and he gave him a genuine smile. He leaned in to taste his mouth shortly.

Mickey felt the tip of a finger running slowly down his spine – sending shivers through his body again. It went to the damp dip of his small back before resting against one of his ass cheek.

“Don’t waste it,” Mickey muttered, feeling lubricant on his skin.

“Never do with you,” Ian replied before resuming going south. He dipped it lower, barely teasing his entrance before pushing it in. He secured Mickey against him with his other hand pressed on his higher back.

“You know I can take more,” Mickey argued, feeling the single finger barely stretching him.

“I know,” Ian said. He pulled it out and teased quickly Mickey’s hole with his middle finger before thrusting it in.

“Fuck, Ian,” he complained, having once more a single finger within him when he couldn’t wait to have Ian fully inside him.

“I know,” Ian repeated, before pushing his index back into him to join his middle finger.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me for sex,” Ian retorted, his face serious. Mickey grinned at him with hooded eyes before capturing his lips. As Mickey pushed his tongue in, Ian fingered him deeper – wider. Ever so slowly he stretched his entrance with his fingers. Mickey quietly moaned in his mouth whenever Ian scissored his fingers or crooked them.

Their bodies were pressed together, sealed with sweat. Mickey’s hand made its way to Ian’s back again to feel the muscles, feel the hardness of his damp body. Without particularly noticing, they shifted their stance and Ian found himself mounted over by Mickey. With legs on each sides of his body, Ian pushed another finger in.

Mickey moaned at the feeling and then groaned when the fresh breeze hit his sweaty back. He rocked against Ian’s fingers a moment – enjoying being there, the way his insides felt when Ian touched him as if he was reaching perfection.

Mickey went for the lubricant, but Ian took upon himself to take care of that – again. He slapped Mickey hand away with his single free hand, but Mickey did help him a bit. He opened the tube and put some in Ian’s palm before lacing their fingers.

“Who’s wasting lube now?” Ian spoke in his mouth.

“Not wasting it,” Mickey replied and brought both of their oiled up hands to Ian’s erection. “Touch yourself,” he murmured at he started touching him as well.

They both jerked Ian off as the redhead kept on preparing Mickey – as if he weren’t ready yet.

“Come on,” Ian said at last. Mickey didn’t understand right away why he had to ‘come on’ but Ian rolled them over and he understood. The sheets where he now lied were dry and cool against the furnace his body was. Ian settled properly between his legs before placing the tip of his penis to Mickey’s entrance. He slowly pushed in and Mickey didn’t hold back his moan. There were no point in doing so. He wanted, no, _needed_ , Ian to know how good he felt thanks to him. He needed to show him how heavenly perfect he was.

Once he’d bottomed out, he didn’t wait – didn’t need to. He started thrusting inside him slowly, but deeply. They had sex like that on rare occasions. Sex was always making love to them, but not on the generic sense of the term. This, tonight, was making love.

Mickey locked his ankles behind Ian’s back and shallowly rolled his hips in sync with Ian. The redhead found his prostate quite easily – he had experience – and brushed against it every so often. The electricity within Mickey’s body never soothed. Especially not when Ian’s caressed his body the way he did. His fingers were soft, careful, against his skin. There would be no other way to express love except for him to voice it.

Mickey threw his head back as a deeper jab inside his, perfectly resting against his sweet spot and continuously teasing it. His eyes were closed in pleasure. His senses were hyper aware of what was happening. The touches lingering on his body intensified and his own hands didn’t know where to settle – where to touch. The room was filled with soft sounds of flesh hitting flesh. He could faintly hear the noise of the bed creaking over the buzzing in his ears. Ian let out low moans and whimpers against him and Mickey felt sounds leaving his throat as well. The smell of sex filled the air, but there was a faint scent of watermelon in the room as well. It was mixed with Ian’s scent – the cigarette he’d smoked earlier and his lemon shampoo.

Ian licked at the column of his neck up to his chin before biting it teasingly. Mickey let out a low chuckle and bowed his head once more to kiss this mouth. Ian laughed in it, and went deeper and deeper inside him.

“God, I love you,” Ian murmured again. “So so much.” Mickey felt Ian’s hips stuttering, just like he heard the tell-tale whimpers. He rocked even more against Ian, chasing his boyfriend’s orgasm for it to be as delightful as possible. “You’re perfect, Mickey,” he said, but his voice broke before the end of his sentence. In a last will to please his boyfriend, Mickey’s hands made their way to Ian’s ass and caressed his buttocks before squeezing at them lightly. It did it, because only seconds after he felt Ian filling him with semen.

Mickey clenched around him to milk him, to pleasure him. His own climax was near, but he was more focused on Ian rather than himself.

Ian was having none of it, though. He placed one of his forearm near Mickey’s face to hold himself up and reached behind himself to place one hand on top of Mickey’s – still resting against his ass. He then resumed thrusting inside him before softening.

Mickey didn’t last much longer as Ian hit his prostate over and over again. “Here,” he gasped with meaning to, making Ian laugh softly.

“I know,” he said. He kissed him, tightened his fingers around Mickey’s hand, pushed in deeper and Mickey erupted on both of their chests.

“Here you are,” Ian murmured. He brought their join hands to touch Mickey’s erection, pumping it ‘til the last drop of semen covered them. Mickey sighed contently and lied properly against the mattress. His eyes never left Ian’s. The redhead licked his fingers clean before leaning in for Mickey’s lips.

They stayed this way for awhile before Ian pulled out. Mickey winced without meaning too. Ian reached for a clean towel in his nightstand drawer and made a quick job of cleaning their chests. He then brought the cloth between Mickey’s legs to collect his own semen.

“You know how beautiful you are?” Ian said softly. Mickey was bathing in the afterglow, sated.

“Not as much as you,” he retorted weakly. Ian grinned and threw the used towel somewhere in the room before lying back in-between Mickey’s legs.

“You’re such a sap, Mick. It’s impressive.”

“Yeah, I’m often told,” he retorted. Ian lied his head on his chest, placing his hand over his ribs. Mickey was still hot, and now more sweaty and sticky than earlier but he still fell asleep quite quickly thanks to Ian.

 

* * *

* * *

 

“You want some sugar?”

“Sure.”

“But who the hell drinks actual hot coffee in the middle of July?” Mickey grumbled, stirring his own mug of coffee – into which he’d dumped as much ice as possible.

“Gallaghers, apparently,” Carl retorted.

“Damn, you’re as funny as your brother.”

“Hey, I’m fun,” Ian intervened, reaching the dinner table and sitting across from Carl.

“No,” Mickey frowned at him. “You’re not.” His boyfriend glanced at Carl, who nodded in confirmation.

“Alright, fuck you two. You live here,” he pointed at Mickey saying this. “And you’re my brother, so you both have to suffer from my apparently not-fun humor.”

“What have you done to him?” Carl whispered to Mickey. His boyfriend simply shrugged. “Did you make him sex-depraved?”

“Guys, I’m right here,” Ian waved his hand around to make them look at him. Having Mickey and Carl to meet was the worst idea he’d ever had. Absolute worst. Not only did Mickey get along pretty well with Debbie already, he _had_ to be friend with his little brother as well. And even Shawn, too. He didn’t take Mickey for the friendly type, but apparently he wasn’t the only one finding this something in him. He did prefer Mickey to be accepted by his family and friends rather than the other way around, but still, sometimes he felt like he was the outsider. He always felt this way whenever he was witnessing it all.

Whenever Debbie came by and had boys trouble, she seemed to trust more Mickey than Ian on the matter – how ironic was that. At first, Ian had been weirded out by this, but after some time he got used to it. He simply loved knowing his little sister accepted Mickey this way. Ian thought they even had inside jokes, to which he couldn’t take part, but he frankly never minded when at the end of the day, his boyfriend was happy and Debbie forgot all the troubles she shouldn’t have to go through.

Same went for Shawn. His best friend seemed to have some privileged discussions with his boyfriend but the only time Ian tried to take part in their chatting and discovered they were, in fact, arguing over sex toys, he quickly went back to work and ignored what he’d heard. He was actually glad Shawn had found someone else to talk about that kind of things. It wasn’t awkward anymore for them to talk about sex, but there was still this limit Ian didn’t want to cross when it came to Shawn. He didn’t want Mickey to get jealous over this – when there were no reasons to, frankly.

Still, Carl and Mickey, bad idea. The actual worse. Because not only did they get along, they actually teamed up against Ian most of the time. They shared moments into which Ian was excluded – for example, changing subjects when he came around. They also trapped him into watching horror movies more often than not. One time, Carl had even slept on their couch. Ian had been buzzing with happiness that day. He had his little brother back, as if nothing had changed. Still, when he’d been woken up with pillows hitting his face and an unfair two against one fight, he had regretted it slightly. Just a bit. Well, at the moment anyways.

At the end of it all, he didn’t care about being left aside – because that wasn’t really what it was, was it? It was just his made-up family enjoying moments together. It was everything he had wished for. They were all here for him, and he was there for them as well. They could count on each other.

They had all managed to make Carl enroll in some community college classes from the next school year. Well, Mickey and Carl had brought up the idea of the younger man working with cars, Debbie had provided brochures and Ian had helped with the paperwork. He’d felt awesome that week when everything had been perfect – having his little siblings with him and his boyfriend as well. Well, the only dark cloud that had hovered over this particular week had been having to buy another bed base – too many lathes had broken in one go.

It had been priceless, though, really. Ian still had that image – and the sounds too – of Mickey screaming for his life as if he was being murdered. He had just tried to ride Ian too hard into the mattress. It had been simple as that.

“You sure you’re here?” Ian heard at the same time someone pinched his thigh.

“Hey, stop that,” he slapped Mickey’s hand away, and went to soothe his skin.

“Told you it’d work,” Carl commented.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“No, you won’t,” Ian snarled, glaring at his boyfriend as menacingly as possible. He didn’t need Mickey to pinch him, now. “Anyways. Why aren’t we at Debbie’s diner again?”

“Because Fiona’s taking some shifts there as well,” Mickey reminded him.

“How the fuck does he remember that and you don’t?” Carl asked him, his eyebrows going up on his forehead – but it wasn’t as impressive as when Mickey did it. Well, he couldn’t find it either hot or adorable on his little brother.

“Selective memory,” Mickey provided. “Everything about her or that shithead brother of yours is erased from his mind pretty quickly.” That was simple to put it out like this, Ian thought. Every time he heard unwanted news about them, he exercised twice as much as his usual routine. And coming home, let’s say their supplies of lubricant went down pretty quickly. He simply blacked out and pushed the memories away. He didn’t want to deal with them, and they apparently didn’t care. Win – win situation.

“Oh, so you also forgot Lip’s here for few weeks, right?”

“No, I didn’t forget that,” Ian winced. He wished he had, though. He didn’t want to stumble upon him by coincidence while making groceries, or going out with Mickey, or having a drink with current or former coworkers. He didn’t want to be taken by surprise when it would come to this. He hoped he wouldn’t have to go through this. Especially now that Lip apparently swung both way, even Boys’ Town wouldn’t be a safe haven away from him.

“Yeah, lucky you. You don’t have to suffer from hearing his hook-ups every night or so,” Carl spat back, tilting his head – waiting for Ian to shoot something back.

“Hook-ups?” Mickey repeated. “Doesn’t he have a boyfriend or something?”

“Like it would stop him,” Ian said.

“Oh, you don’t know?” Carl actually grinned.

“Don’t know what?”

“He’s got dumped!” Carl cheered and raised his mug before realizing it was only coffee in it. He coughed awkwardly afterwards, embarrassed.

“Got caught balls deep into someone else, I suppose,” Ian grumbled.

“Not even,” Carl stressed both words. “Sully dumped him because he felt like their relationship wasn’t taking a good direction or whatever.”

“That’s a shitty excuse,” Mickey pointed out, taking a sip of his iced coffee.

“It is! But like, I think he’s heartbroken or some shit,” Carl shrugged

“Good for him,” Ian replied before drinking some of his coffee. “He’s been shitty to so many people, he deserves that.”

“Hey,” Mickey let out, putting his hand on his forearm. Ian smiled lightly at him and placed his other hand on top of his.

“He does,” Carl confirmed. “You definitely weren’t there for the many pregnancy scare and all the shit he put some girls through.”

“I’ve heard, yeah.”

“Whatever. There’s this guy at the house more often than not and he stinks like trouble.”

“Trouble? Like, jail trouble or?”

“Nah, it’s more like,” Carl paused. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, trying to find the good formulation, but he quickly gave up. “Like, he’s gonna spring feelings on him, and then go fuck up, you know?”

“I know the type, yeah,” Ian said bitterly, his thoughts already picturing a certain younger man. Ian heard a phone vibrating somewhere in the kitchen but neither Mickey nor him got up to retrieve it.

“Plus, he’s like Debbie’s age, it’s weird,” Carl added. At that moment, Mickey and Ian shared a look. A guy, stinking like trouble, Debbie’s age?

“What’s his name?” Ian inquired for.

Carl frowned at their reactions, “I’ve never quite caught that. Like, Ja-something. Like, Jake or something.”

They weren’t reassured, though. “What does he look like?”

“Guys, what’s going on?”

“Answer the question.”

“I don’t know, he’s basic as fuck. Like, brown hair, brown eyes, never knowing when to shave?”

“That can be him,” Mickey muttered.

“That could, yeah,” Ian agreed. He stood up and made a bee line to the kitchen to retrieve Mickey’s phone.

“Can be who?” Carl asked. “Ian?!”

Ian grabbed Mickey’s phone from where his boyfriend had left it near the sink. It had been his phone vibrating. Ian didn’t want to read his texts so he brought the device back to the dinner table.

“Here,” he threw it to Mickey.

“You could’ve looked through,” his boyfriend said, unlocking the phone.

“You got a text,” Ian shrugged.

“And? I don’t care if you read my texts,” Mickey told him, but frowned at the screen. “The hell,” he muttered, but quickly put a on a blank face.

“Guys, what’s up?” Carl asked.

“Lip could be screwing Mickey’s best friend.”

“But, if he’s your best friend, wouldn’t you know?” Carl asked as Mickey looked through his phone. His boyfriend finally looked up from the screen.

“He’s not – really. We’re not that close anymore,” he told him awkwardly. He then threw the device towards Carl. Ian glanced at the phone quickly and caught the sight of a picture starring Jay and Mickey. His boyfriend was sticking his tongue at the camera while Jay had two fingers held behind Mickey’s head. Ian hated the fact that they actually looked like a couple before reminding himself that they, too, had a ton of pictures like this – their own phone backgrounds were the proof of it. “It’s him?”

“No, not him. But he kind of looks like a guy at college with Debs. Vaguely.”

“Oh, don’t say that,” Ian couldn’t help the disgust in his voice. Carl apparently scrolled through the pictures.

“Well, no,” he repeated afterwards. “No him, not Debbie’s college guy.”

“Cool then. Good.”

“Jesus,” Mickey muttered. “Imagine your asshole of a brother and him together.”

“I prefer not to,” Ian shivered, his eyes widening.

***

“You can lash out, if you want,” Mickey murmured. He felt the bed dipping closer to him and barely glanced to the side to witness his boyfriend staring at him.

“Don’t need to,” he replied, resuming staring at the ceiling and the shadow created by the light of streetlamps lighting their bedroom.

“You’re sure about that?” Mickey insisted, placing his hand delicately on his bare chest. “We had to deal with these two, today, and you haven’t even reacted.”

“I don’t want them to take over my life anymore.”

“They’re not.” He heard the actual frown in Mickey’s voice.

“They are,” he sighed. “Well, were.” He turned to lie on his side as well – facing Mickey. “I’m doing great, Mick. I’ve got my happy life back, with you adding to it. It’s not relevant anymore to have these morons on my mind. Lip can go fuck himself, literally. If he wants to come around, I’ll let him, but I decided it’ll stop eating me this way. Same goes for Fiona. And Jay.” He surprised himself by actually pronouncing his name. He’d avoided saying it all this time – he still remembered Mickey’s voice moaning it all these months ago. But that was it, it’d been months ago.

“Jay?”

“I don’t care anymore. He’s not gonna rain on my, _our_ , parade. I know you wouldn’t even let him, so that’s okay.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Mickey admitted, his fingers going to caress Ian’s neck.

“Just say you’ll be there with me,” Ian muttered. “And mean it.”

A smile spread on Mickey’s face, quickly turning into a bright grin. “I’ll stay here with you, Ian. I’m not going anywhere, and I sure as fuck will not try to find someone else. I thought you knew that by now.”

“I do. But it’s always better to hear you say it.”

“Oh, is it, now? You’re an insecure little shit, you know that?”

“Yeah, someone tells me that quite often,” Ian sighed exaggeratedly, making Mickey chuckle. He didn’t say anything else then, but Ian felt Mickey’s eyes boring into him. No words were needed there. Mickey didn’t have to tell him he loved him, that he cared about him and all that meaningful sappy crap that came with it. Words wouldn’t be enough anyways. So he simply looked at Mickey, looked at the way his face was open and soft – everything it never was with other people around.

“I’m proud of you, you know,” Mickey murmured after awhile.

“You don’t have to,” he dismissed him.

“Oh, yes, I do,” his boyfriend insisted nonetheless. “You’ve overcome so many things, and so many fears and you’re still here.”

“Well, I got a pretty reason to stay.”

“Let me guess, round ass and pretty good gag reflex?”

“Hm, I was about to say a loving housewife,” Ian joked back.

“You’re an asshole,” Mickey laughed anyways before shifting into Ian’s arms.

“Cook me breakfast tomorrow?” Ian dared to ask.

“I’ll be your breakfast tomorrow,” Mickey retorted.

“Oh, will you?”

“If you let me sleep enough, yes.”

“Damn, bossy.” Mickey hummed a response and got comfortable in their embrace. “Just one more question.”

“Shoot,” he mumbled.

“Who was it on the phone earlier? When Carl was here.”

“Oh, just Shawn.”

“Why did he want?” Ian didn’t remember the time when his best friend didn’t dare texting his boyfriend like this. He didn’t quite remember how Shawn shifted from being his best friend to being a sort of friendship third wheel to them.

“Something you don’t wanna know.”

“Except now I do want to know even more.”

“It involves dicks in butts, Ian,” Mickey told him.

“Oh. Yeah. I don’t want to know then,” he agreed, but after awhile, his curiosity got him nonetheless. “Whose dick and whose butt?”

Mickey sighed deeply and made them shift for him to hover over Ian. “His butt. And some dick. Alright? You don’t want to know, remember?” Mickey reminded him.

“Okay, okay,” Ian relented, placing his hands on Mickey’s hips. “Can it be my dick in your butt, now? Or the other way around, if you prefer.”

“Give it a couple of hours and we’ll see,” his boyfriend told him before lying down properly.

 

* * *

* * *

 

“This is becoming a thing, isn’t it?” Mickey mumbled, sinking even deeper into the bathtub – closer to Ian.

“What is?” Ian breathed. Just by the sound of his voice, Mickey knew that Ian had his head tilted against the tiles and his eyes closed.

“Us, taking a bath together,” he provided.

“I don’t mind it.”

“Neither do I,” Mickey told him, snuggling even closer to him.

His whole body was hurting. After few months of unsuccessful convincing coming from Ian, Mickey had finally come along for Ian’s run. During the summer, he’d had the excuse of the weather – way too hot for him. But now, end of September, he couldn’t argue more. Ian had slowed down his pace and stayed with Mickey all through their run. Mickey hadn’t hated it as much as he’d thought he would. Still, two days later, his legs felt like jelly even more. Adding to this, the restocking for Halloween and early Thanksgiving at work was killing his back.

“You had something with this intimacy thing of yours,” Mickey mumbled.

“What?” Ian breathed, slightly shifting to talk in his ear.

“This feels good. Us and water. Nothing else.”

“Yeah.”

“And with no sexual tension or whatever. Just relaxing.”

“I agree,” Ian said in his ear. “Though, it’s pretty ironic considering what we were doing exactly a year ago.”

“You remember?” The date wasn’t marked on his calendar or whichever thing Mickey could have done to remember this day. Exactly one year ago, Mickey had gone to his first actual date. He remembered each and every details of it – how awkward and, at the same time, so easy it’d been. He thought back of how good it’d felt to be with Ian, to share moments. The idea of being manhandled over a pool table was still stuck in his brain – but that wasn’t the main event his brain kept living and vivid.

“Oh, you do too?” Ian tilted his head before kissing his cheek wetly. Mickey nodded mindlessly.

“How could I forget the day I voluntarily shared my food, goddamn chocolate cake, with a guy. At a restaurant. On a date.”

“I thought you actually wanted to share,” Ian retorted.

“And you know me now.”

“Damn, you really got me there,” he chuckled lightly. “Personally, I keep in mind the fact that I had a date with this hot guy from my building. The one that I’d thought was breaking into my place, but ended up checking me out and on all fours in my bed. The very same guy who brought me to an empty bar and was, in fact, so sweet and adorable with me,” he kept on, kissing Mickey’s jaw again, then down his neck. “Or maybe I actually keep in mind the guy I nearly had sex with on a pool table.”

Mickey sighed deeply, enjoying the damp kisses peppered on his skin. “I knew you wanted me only for my ass,” he said seriously – he knew Ian knew he was actually joking.

“Yeah, that ass,” Ian played along, caressing Mickey’s body. The dark haired man chuckled at that and made a move to turn around but winced in pain.

“Still hurting?” Ian murmured. Mickey hummed his response and closed his eyes. He rested his head against Ian’s upper chest again.

“Want me to massage you?” Ian offered, running his fingers across Mickey’s waist.

“Later,” Mickey told him. “I’m comfy here.”

“I bet you are,” Ian murmured, spreading his legs wider and eventually resting one of them out of the water – hanging from the bathtub’s edge.

They remained in the water for awhile. Ian kept on stroking Mickey’s skin lightly, probably absentmindedly. If someone had told Mickey the year before that he would actually date the cute hot redhead from his building, he would’ve laughed at their face. Not because he hadn’t seen himself in a relationship. No. He simply hadn’t thought someone would like to stay with him and love him the way Ian did. They’d been together for nearly a year now, if they didn’t count those dark times. Nearly a year of Ian in his life, feeling safe and worth it. Mickey hadn’t joked when he’d said they would do Christmas gifts the next year or when he told Mandy that Ian would be his plus-one for her wedding next summer. As sappy as it sounded to his own ears, he didn’t imagine anything without Ian being part of it.

He idly wondered why Ian never asked some questions he knew was on his mind. Mickey had noticed the way his boyfriend loved to kiss the scars on his body or caress them softly. Yet, Ian didn’t bring up the subject – as if he knew it was something Mickey didn’t like to talk about. But now, nearly a year after and nearly twenty years after his father’s death, it was maybe about time for him to talk about them. It wasn’t hard for him to tell their stories. It used to break his own heart, to remind himself of how weak he’d been – even though Mandy always reminded him that he’d been too young anyways. But now, he simply didn’t want to be pitied for something of his past – something having no impact on his present.

“Fork,” he simply said when Ian racked his fingers against the scar on his rib. His boyfriend seemed to particularly like that one.

“What?”

“I was maybe six or seven. Mandy and I were arguing over the last chicken nugget, I think. I was hunched over the table to get it, but Dad didn’t see it that way. He went fork first to push me away, screaming about whiny kids. The fork went through my t-shirt and scratch the skin deeply,” he explained. It seemed silly, looking back. Maybe it’d been worse, or better. But that was the only thing he remembered about it.

“That’s fucked up,” Ian breathed, flattening his hand against his ribs protectively.

“I know.”

Ian didn’t talk for a moment, tracing the scar over and over again.

“This one?” He hesitantly asked, caressing the one on his left shoulder.

“Liquor bottle.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”

“That one?” Ian wondered out loud, aiming for the one above his nipple.

“I don’t really remember. I think that one is Mandy, though,” he told him. Not all his scars were because of Terry, but apparently, to Ian’s eyes, they were all from his father. Some of them were because he’d been a reckless kid, others weren’t as old – coming from growing up with his cousins and his sister. Some, yes, were from Terry’s abusive behavior, thinking of his son as a living punching bag. Still, Mickey preferred being scarred physically rather than the wounds Mandy had to live with in her own mind.

He had never explicitly told Ian about Mandy, because it was frankly not his story to tell. He assumed Ian had connected the dots after the bits he’d told him, though.

That night, he explained him the stories being each and every of the scars on his body – well, from what he remembered.

 

* * *

* * *

 

“Mickey! Is it that hard to restock the fucking –“ Ian started ranting as he got out of the bathroom, but paused once he saw him.

“Toilet paper,” Jay provided, waving awkwardly.

“I didn’t know you were here already,” he told him, standing near the threshold to the bathroom – an empty roll of toilet paper in hand.

“Hey, Ian,” Mickey started, making his way out of the bedroom. “Jay’s here,” he kept on but his voice lowered as he probably noticed the two men had already met.

“Toilet paper,” Ian simply told him.

“Sorry,” Mickey mumbled, taking the roll from Ian’s hand. He then kissed Ian’s cheek, almost as an apology for everything. “Mandy said they’ll be there soon as well,” he informed them. Ian saw Jay nodding lightly before he made his way into the open space of the living room.

“Do you need help with anything or?” he asked, looking at Ian.

Ian’s lips made a thin line. He barely recognized the man in front of him. Sure, physically, he’d changed – aged even. He’d cut his hair short, almost army required haircut, and for once, was cleanly shaved. He wasn’t like the college student he’d despised all this time. It destabilized Ian a bit, to say the least. A year after their fuck-up, Jay wasn’t like the man he used to be. Ian hadn’t seen him for nearly 7 months – not that he minded, really. Still, he was over it. Over this fuck-up. The three of them had changed, they weren’t the men they used to be.

“Mickey was about to set the table, right?” His boyfriend vehemently nodded, and tilted his head to show Jay the way.

“Smells pretty good,” Jay commented, grabbing the offered plates. “You cooked all this?” he asked Ian.

“Hm, yeah,” Ian replied, eyeing all the dishes scattered over the bench. “Mickey helped a lot, too.”

“You cooked?” Jay turned to Mickey, a genuine surprise tinting his features.

“I did,” he answered proudly. “But all the credit goes to Ian,” he added. “Never in hell would I have decided to be the one inviting people over for Thanksgiving.”

“Yeah, but I couldn’t have made it without you helping,” Ian told him. He went to caress Mickey’s forearm gently as his boyfriend retrieved the glasses from the cupboard. Mickey smiled genuinely at him before quickly pecking his lips.

“Want something to drink?” he asked aloud for Jay, who was disposing the cutlery down onto the dinner table.

“Shouldn’t we wait for the others to arrive?” was Jay’s reply. He was actually voicing Ian’s thoughts.

“If you want,” Mickey replied before turning to Ian. “You know where Shawn is?”

“I’ll text him,” Ian told him.

[10:09 AM] Ian Gallagher: Jay’s here. Mandy and Jeremy are on their way. Where are you?

[10:12 AM] Shawn Thomas: On my way. Just boarded the L. See you soon. (Don’t kill anyone)

[10:16 AM] Ian Gallagher: Surprisingly enough, I’m not planning murder today.

“He’ll be there soon,” Ian told them, before pocketing his phone. He wasn’t going to wish anyone’s death today.

***

“So, what are you guys thankful for this year?” It was Jeremy who asked the question.

“What are _you_ thankful for?” Mandy retorted smartly.

“Oh, we do it this way?” Her fiancé answered. Ian kind of dug their relationship. He hadn’t seen them that much along the months, but he and Mandy did get along pretty well – no wonder he was in love with her brother. If he’d been wired that way, he would probably have crushed on her instead. “Alright, I begin. I’m thankful for my beautiful fiancée here, who made me the happiest man on Earth by accepting to marry me.”

“Cheesy,” Jay coughed in his fist next to him. Ian had to admit it _was_ cheesy, but he would never get over how in love Jeremy was with his sister-in-law.

“Oh,” his older brother huffed. “What are _you_ thankful for, little brother of mine?”

“Hm.” That shut him up for a minute. Everyone at the table had their eyes on him, waiting for him to talk – maybe to make a mistake. Ian wasn’t expecting that. The young man he’d spent few hours with today was clearly unlike the one he’d always hated. He was genuinely curious of what he had to say right now. “I’m thankful for the people who made me grow up this year, who made me someone more responsible.” People at the table were speechless. It wasn’t much, but everyone here knew what he meant by this. They were just the six of them, but everyone knew what had gone down – everyone had witnessed it.

“Nice,” Ian nodded at him. “Mick?” he asked, his boyfriend being the next in line.

“I’m thankful for, hm – I’m thankful to be surrounded by people I love and who love me back.”

“Generic,” Mandy told him.

“What your boyfriend said was generic,” he retorted.

“Come on. You can do better than that,” Shawn chuckled. Ian, though, recognized the look on Mickey’s face and assumed someone was about to be embarrassed.

“Alright,” Mickey said, straightening up a bit. “I’m thankful to have someone I can talk sex toys with. I’m thankful to not hear my sister and his fiancé going at it more often than not. I’m thankful I live with someone I actually love. I’m thankful people at work aren’t shitheads. And I’m thankful people around this table are adult enough to sort their shit out. Better?”

Ian grinned at him. It wasn’t as bad as he’d thought it’d be. “Come here,” he murmured before pecking gently his boyfriend’s lips.

“Your turn,” Mickey mumbled.

“Alright. Hm. I’m thankful for my family and my friends. Really.”

“That’s common as shit as well,” Mandy commented. “You two are seriously getting boring, let me tell you.”

“Hey,” Shawn intervened, but smiled nonetheless.

“That’s none of your business but there’s actually more to it, Mands,” Mickey told his sister. “He’s right to be thankful for his family. And friends,” he said, looking intently at Shawn. Ian didn’t need to be defended, but it always felt nice to have Mickey reading his mind that easily. It felt also nice to have people he cared about surrounding him like this.

“If you say so,” Mandy huffed. “Angel Face, your turn.”

“Angel Face?” Jeremy repeated. “I thought I was Angel Face.”

Jay snorted next to him, “you?”

“Yeah, you?” Mickey commented as well. “Far from it.”

“Very very far,” Mandy added. “So?” she refocused on Shawn next to her.

“Hm,” he hesitated. “I guess I’m thankful Ian quitted his job, meaning I have longer shifts and earn more money?”

“You’re an asshole,” Ian informed him.

“I know,” Shawn smiled at him. “That’s why your boyfriend likes me,” he retorted with a laugh.

“We don’t need to know stuff like that,” Jeremy told him, scrunching up his face.

“Who do you think he talks sex toys with?” Shawn asked him.

“Shut up,” Mickey surged.

“I thought it’d be Jay,” Mandy said, effectively shutting everyone up. Few people at the table were glaring at her as if she had made _the_ mistake. Ian thought it was kind of childish and eased the growing tension.

“Not talking about details of our sex life,” he said. “He already knows too much,” he pointed at Shawn. “Mandy? Your turn?”

“Oh, hm,” she looked around as if someone was about to throw a fit whatsoever but no one budged. “I’m thankful for the happiness both my fiancé and my brother are bringing me.”

“Basic bitch,” Mickey commented.

“Hey, I can say basic shit as well,” she stuck her tongue out at him, trying to kick him under the table at the same time – Ian knew that because he was the one actually kicked. Her legs were probably too short to reach her brother’s. “And, I’m hungry so whatever. Bon appétit, guys!”

“Yeah, yeah, stuff your face in with free food.”

“That’s kinda the idea, yeah,” Shawn told Mickey.

***

“Who’s texting you?” Ian kicked at Shawn’s shin. Shawn had been checking his phone too many times within the day. Ian, Mickey and Mandy had requisitioned the couch, leaving no room for the others. Shawn and Jay were down on the floor, sitting on cushions while the older Asher brother had been sent over to the kitchen to clean the dishes.

“None of your business,” Shawn retorted.

“A boyfriend?” Jay turned to look at him.

“None of your business,” Mickey repeated for Shawn.

“Is it?” Ian turned to Mickey. “Is it a boyfriend?” He said louder for Shawn, who was intently not looking at him.

“Does that mean I don’t have any chance?” Jay looked at Shawn under his lashes. Witnessing this was a tad awkward for Ian, who looked between the two men. The silence felt heavy – the only sounds were coming from Jeremy in the kitchen.

“You gays are so much drama,” Mandy mumbled – half lying on her brother.

“Bi,” Shawn corrected her.

“So, boyfriend?” Ian insisted.

“I don’t know,” the blond gave in with a sigh. Jay’s mouth twitched and he sighed as well – leaning against the coffee table. He put some distance between himself and Shawn. At that moment, Ian noticed how close they’d been sitting.

“Who’s this guy?” Ian repeated. The blond looked down at his hands again before glancing at Mickey. “Mick? You know?”

“How come he knows before you do?” was Mandy’s intervention.

“That’s a pretty fucking good question,” Ian said. “So?”

“Might as well tell him, Shawn. It’ll be official next week,” Mickey told him with a shrug.

“What’s happening next week?”

“I’ll have dinner at Boris’s parents.” No. That couldn’t be it.

“Boris?”

“Yes,” the blond nodded shyly. “As the boyfriend, I guess.”

“You’re kidding me, right?” Ian asked, glancing at Mickey. “That’s a joke, right?”

“Ian,” Mickey muttered soothingly.

“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?”

“You don’t like him,” Shawn retorted.

“Yeah, but I’ll make an effort if you’re actually dating him. You know that, right?”

“Hm, no.”

“Idiot,” Ian told him and threw the first cushion at reach to Shawn’s face. “How long?”

“Awhile,” he shrugged, blushing a bit.

“You’re dating a fucking banker.”

“Says the guy who had a crush on a bartender.”

“That’s not that bad,” Jay commented.

“Like you can talk,” Mandy said. “You dated a coworker. Who’s dumb enough to date a coworker?”

“Hey, I’m the youngest here. I can make mistakes.”

“But coworkers,” Ian insisted. “Dating coworkers can’t work.”

“Yeah,” Shawn agreed. “See?” He motioned for Ian and himself. “You can’t date coworkers. Fuck them if you want, but no relationship feelings whatsoever.”

“What are you talking about?” Jeremy asked, looking at the random cushions flying around.

“The fact that Shawn and Ian never dated, really. That Angel Face is apparently fucking a banker. That Jay has no excuse for dating a coworker. And that, bartenders are good guys? Right?” Mandy explained. She looked at Ian for confirmation.

“More or less,” he confirmed with a smile. Jeremy rolled his eyes and slapped the top of Jay’s head. Jay slapped him back before Shawn poked at his thigh.

They were good. Things were good.

 

* * *

* * *

 

“Mick,” Ian muttered. God, his boyfriend never slept. To be quiet honest, Mickey had been awake for awhile as well – still, he pretended not to. He’d felt Ian stirring against him a couple of minutes before. The arm around him had tightened before the hand had flattened protectively against his belly.

He felt safe there. Early morning, snow on the window’s edge, a warm blanket over his body, his boyfriend spooning him. There were no other place he’d like to be.

“I know you’re not sleeping,” Ian muttered. “But go ahead. Pretend.” Mickey struggled to fight back a smile, but he assumed he’d managed to keep a pretty decent poker face. Ian sighed his warm breath against his neck before keeping on talking in murmurs. “Too bad you’ll never hear how much I love you then. How much you make me happy. Last Christmas was pretty sad for me, except for your presence afterwards. But now you’re here. You’re here with me, and I have no intention to leave – neither do you, I assume. I mean, we share an apartment. And we made our first couple purchase. Okay, the car is pretty shitty and we haven’t christened it yet but that’s a big deal for both of us,” Ian ranted. His voice was still slightly hoarse with sleep, but at the same time so soft. Every word sent light shivers down his spine, made his hairs prickle on his neck. “Are you gonna say something at some point?” Mickey hesitated for few seconds before shaking his head no the most faintly as possible. “Alright,” he said with a smile. “I think we’re due to go on holidays together. I don’t know where nor when, but that could be a good idea, right? I mean, we make pretty good money with both of our jobs to pay the rent of a place I could afford by myself. We could go anywhere you want. Not too sunny, though. We would probably burn and that’s not really enjoyable, is it?”

“Christ, you never shut up,” Mickey mumbled, at last. He shifted within Ian’s embrace to pin him against the mattress. He lied his head against his chest and threw his leg over his thighs.

“Ah, he speaks,” Ian smirked. Mickey only chuckled lightly, stroking his boyfriend’s skin. “What about pancakes? Lots of syrup. We might have some fruit too.”

“Later,” Mickey told him. “’m comfy here.”

“You’re comfy everywhere,” Ian retorted, but cuddled him closer.

“Everywhere with you,” he corrected him. “Oh, and Merry Christmas, Ian,” he told him, looking up. Ian then looked down at him before making them shift to peck his lips gently.

“Merry Christmas to you too, Mick,” he replied against his lips. Mickey closed his eyes before cupping his boyfriend’s jaw with both hands. He brought their mouths together, and Ian went with it easily. Ian licked his lips gently, tasting him over and over again – as if he was rediscovering it every time. Both of Ian’s hands flattened against his back, securing him against his warm body.

Mickey moved his hands upward, fingers running through the curls he loved that much. He felt Ian’s smile in their tender kiss. God, he loved him. He would probably change some stuff about how their relationship had started, but what they had now – hell, what they’d been having for nearly a year – that was happiness. That was everything Mickey had never dared to hope for – and he knew it was the same for his boyfriend.

Ian made them roll over, entangling their limbs together and with the blanket and sheets. They heard it then. Faint moans, faint groans. Mickey didn’t focus on that, not when Ian’s tongue was playing with his. But then, the thump-thump from upstairs was too noticeable for him to ignore. He sighed into their kiss and dropped his head against the pillow. Ian rested his forehead next to his face.

“Christ,” the redhead muttered. Mickey was still running his fingers through the wild curls. The noises grew louder – the banging of the headboard couldn’t be mistaken with anything else, and the noises that accompanied it were pretty easy to discern.

Mickey turned his head towards Ian’s, his nose brushing against his cheek. When Ian looked at him, he saw the tiredness and frustration in his eyes.

“Jesus Christ,” Ian yelled suddenly, facing away from Mickey – away from his ear. “Shut the fuck up!” Well, some things never changed.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me now with [Four Kicks](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3963256) or the [NYC - Chicago series](http://archiveofourown.org/series/254617).  
> If you want to know when the next chapter will be up or if I already started writing it (or whatever...), you can always leave a comment or shoot me an ask at [moonymarks](http://moonymarks.tumblr.com/).
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you for reading, for your comments and/or kudos and/or following and/or bookmark. Everything means a lot.


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